A Golden Light in Times of Darkness
by Wenont
Summary: Almost 200 years before the Great War, a mortal child, orphaned at barely a day old in an Orc raid, is rescued and raised by Lorien Elves and learns of life, love and the horrors of war, through the eyes of the Eldar. Nominated for the 2006 MEFAs.
1. Chapter 1

This is my second posting on this website. The first being 'Sweetest of Dreams'. This particular story took nearly 7 months to write in draft, another two months to have betaed (She liked it so much that she begged me to be allowed to hold onto the manuscript for another month to reread it!) and two more to beat it into something readable online.

Disclaimer...which essentially means nothing... I own none of that which is Tolkien's. Only my original characters and the various scenes and timelines I have developed.

Text that is in italics are flashbacks.

Text that is in bold italics is conversation taking place in the minds of characters speaking with each other.

Please, read, review, comment. It means a lot to me, as your feedback not only tells me if my material is something that you all like, it also helps me to understand where I can do better in my own original fantasy/fiction that I also write. Enjoy. 

As the Galadhrim gathered at the gates of Lothloríen, Arohtarë gazed at the tall, handsome elf by her side with sad eyes. They had been through much together over the course of almost two centuries, and now, all that they had ever known; all that they had ever shared together could very well fall into oblivion, as a result of this impending and most likely doomed journey they were all now undertaking. Her eyes snapped to the Lord and Lady standing before them, as they gave the signal to open the great golden gates.

Haldir turned his gaze softly upon her and she nodded in response. 

"Sulime! - March!" she barked, and the large contingent of Lórien and Rivendell

Elves began the three-day/night march to Helm's Deep. She would have plenty of time to think in the long days ahead.

Ever since the Fellowship had come to rest within the borders of the Golden Wood two moons ere, she had done nothing but think… As they marched out into the moonless night, her mind filled with the memories of her life, floating through her thoughts like a summer breeze.

**   
- A Babe of Eight Winters -  
**

_"Craban…Blast that child!…Demon of Mordor she is… Craban! Put those knives down this instant! AND STOP RUNNING WITH THEM!"_

Orophin was sitting on his talan's balcony, when his brother's voice thundered throughout the tranquility of the Golden Wood. He doubled over in laughter, as he saw a literal streak fly past, followed by an extremely irate Rumil.

"You must be getting on in years my brother, for the child has bested you once again!" he shouted down, as Rumil passed under his flet.

Rumil looked up, red faced from the exertion of the race, and shot a look to kill at his younger brother.

"I shall make certain that you find yourself patrolling the borders for the next hundred years!…Without leave!" he spat, shaking his fist and continuing the chase.

Craban rounded the bend on the path at full speed, sensing that Rumil was steps behind, and crashed headlong into Lord Celeborn before she could stop herself. The knives flew out of her hands, and past dangerously close to either side of the great lord, impaling themselves into the soft earth behind him.

"By the Valar! Craban! What in Arda are you doing with long knives?" he growled in irritation and great concern, as he lifted the frightened and stunned child from the ground.

At that moment, Rumil came charging around the bend and barely was able to stop himself, before gracing the Lord with his hurried presence. He stared at the Lord in horror. Oh Sweet Eru! Of all the people in Lórien for her to… Ai' Haldir will have me flayed alive if this gets out.

"Ah! Sitting again, are we Rumil?" said Celeborn chuckling loudly, handing the now wailing child to the shaken elf.

"I trust you are hale and whole m'lord?" Rumil said nervously, running his eyes over the king's form.

"Yes, yes, I am fine, though I believe that patch of moss behind me has suffered to the Halls of Mandos," he said with a laugh.

Rumil glanced by the shoulder of Celeborn, eyeing the two knives impaled to their hilts, in the soft earth.

"Thank the Valar." Rumil breathed, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "I shall immediately put in for back to back patrols at the borders as soon as I get back to my flet," he muttered to himself.

"Quite the handful she has become, I see. It appears that she pulls ahead a bit more each time the chase is on," Celeborn laughed again. "Aye. I cannot for the life of me fathom how she reaches such speed. And for a mortal! She is like the wind!

"Orophin is right, I am getting old. I apologize m'lord, but I cannot promise twill not happen again. I will however, pray mightily that it does not," he sighed wearily, turning and heading back up the path they had come, sniffling child in his arms, knives safely in his quiver harness. Sort of. Celeborn watched, as Craban slowly reached for a knife in one of the sheaths at Rumil's back, and Rumil grab her hand away, cursing. He snickered to himself.

"If you only knew my friend, if you only knew…" he laughed out loud as he continued his walk.

She was brought out of her thoughts by Haldir's low voice. "Meleth, we shall rest here for a few hours."

"Aye Haldir."

"Doro! - Halt!"

She signaled silently to the troops behind her, and all immediately fell still and out of formation, into the tree line to rest for a few hours. Once the watch was posted, Haldir and Arohtarë sat under a tree and curled up next to each other in silence. They silently spoke with each other in their minds briefly, before swiftly drifting into a light sleep. Her dreams again floated back to her childhood, through a story her uncle had told her long ago.

**  
- 10 Winters of Wonder -  
**

_" Craban, do not play with those!" Haldir's voice thundered from across the room, as the child grasped a fistful of arrows from his quiver._

In two strides, he was at her side taking his quiver from her tight little fists.

"I want my own Ada!" she began to wail.

"Ai' Craban you are too young as of yet. But I promise, you shall have your own soon enough child," he said softly as he picked her up and held her close.

'Of all mortals to cross my path, this one has to be the boldest, most precocious, impetuous and demonic of all to walk Middle Earth. But I love her dearly.' he thought to himself, as he walked to the chaise, sitting with her on his lap.

She toyed with one of his side braids, and he could see that there was something on her mind that she was not sure of speaking. "What troubles you little one? You seen a bit sad," he asked, stroking her hair.

"Nay Ada, I am not sad…" she kept her head down not wanting to look in his eyes.

"Come, tell me my sweet, what is on your mind?" he asked gently, turning her tiny face towards his.

"Why must you always take these things from me? I will not be hurt, I promise," she said, finally looking into Haldir's eyes.

"Little one, you can be hurt. Weapons are very dangerous."

"They tell me that they will not hurt me Ada. Like the trees talk to me."

He looked at her in disbelief. What? " Craban, I do not think my arrows talk to you," he said firmly, as he let her off of his lap.

"They do too! And they tell me how to play with them!" she cried, glaring at him, angry that he would not believe her.

She stomped off into her room, slamming the door.

"Ai'! Sweet Eru…!" he breathed, throwing his hands up in frustration, as a rapping turned his attention to the door.

He opened it and Rumil stepped inside.

"I could not help but hear the latest tantrum my brother."

Haldir rolled his eyes and headed for the kitchen.

"Would you like some tea, brother? I was about to reach for several bottles of wine but thought better of it."

Rumil raised a brow in amusement, as Haldir put a pot on the fire.

"She is taxing you again is she not?"

"Taxing? Creating havoc and making me wish for a 1000-year border patrol. That is what she is causing me Rumil," he sighed, plopping himself down onto the chaise, facing his brother.

"She has come out with the most incredulous statement just now, and I am unable to fathom where her mind is sometimes," he sighed in exasperation.

"And what would that be?"

Haldir let out a breath and looked down for a moment, hands clasped in front of him, as he leaned over his knees.

"She asked why we always took weapons away from her. When I told her they were dangerous, and she could be hurt she said she would not be hurt."

Rumil looked at him silently, not seeing what the great turmoil was in her words. "Is that all?"

"Nay, it gets better…She told me that the weapons talk to her, tell her that she will not be hurt, and instruct her in their use. Like the trees talk with her, she said."

Rumil was now sitting on the edge of his seat, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. "Ah. And your response was?"

Haldir sighed and said, " I told her I did not believe such to be so."

Rumil sat back in his chair, closing his eyes tightly and squeezing his fingers together over them.

"Ai', I fear that was not so good to say Haldir, not that I am the parent here. She may not trust to speak with you so freely again."

"Aye, Aye that thought crossed my mind too late, I fear. I am bedeviled as to what course of action I am to follow now," he snorted in laughter. "To think I command an army of thousands, make decisions and develop courses of action in moments, yet I cannot, for the life of me, determine what to do with a 10 year old child."

Rumil studied his brother for a moment then said, "Mayhap, dear Marchwarden, you should allow her to have her way and watch her progress." He put a hand up, seeing Haldir open his mouth to protest, bidding him not to respond, as he was not finished. "Mayhap training blades would be in order, seeing that she has quite a fondness for the sword and knife."

Haldir sat in silence, brow furrowed, pondering his brother's advice. He glanced up at Rumil several times, thrumming his fingers on the arm of the chaise, as thoughts turned in his mind.

Finally, he sighed deeply and said, "I believe I shall heed your advice Rumil. I shall gather the little demon and tell her of what we have discussed."

Haldir rose with a smile on his lips, and went to Craban 's door, knocking lightly upon it. No answer. He tried the latch. Locked.

"Craban, please, unlock this door immediately."

He had his ear to the door, listening for movement within. He could have sworn he heard a low growl. Impossible. No fell beast could get past the sentries, and their talan was over 200 feet from the ground. "

Craban!" he called, voice rising.

Now Rumil was standing by his side, a look of concern on his face. This time he was quite sure he heard a feral growl, like a wildcat. Not hesitating, Haldir kicked in the door and was almost run over by a small, growling, black streak, with bright green eyes, that leapt out of the open bedroom doorway, knocking Rumil to the side, bound through the living area, and out an open window. It had moved like lightening.

Both brothers ran to the window of the talan and were stunned at what they beheld. A small black creature was swiftly making its way down the mallorn tree with ease. Once on the ground, it bound into the woods at high speed, and was quickly lost to their elven eyes in the darkness.

"By the Valar, brother! What in Arda was that?" asked Rumil in disbelief, hand to his chest.

"I have not the slightest idea Rumil but… Craban is gone…" said Haldir quietly, standing in the doorway of his daughter's empty bedroom and staring in bewilderment at the empty chamber.

Rumil gazed into the child's empty room thoughtfully and blinked. He thought a moment then a look of realization spread across his face.

"Aye Haldir, mayhap that…" pointing to the window that the creature jumped through, "…WAS Craban."

Haldir looked at his brother as if he had three heads. A most dour look upon his face.

He shifted his weight and quietly said, "Rumil, I do believe that you have had too much honeyed tea. You are daft."

His brother raised his brows at the statement, choking back a chuckle.

"On occasion mayhap, at this moment, nay."

Haldir glowered at Rumil, tapped his foot impatiently waiting for him to continue.

"Do you perchance, remember how I chanced upon finding the child all those years ago?"

Haldir nodded.

"Do you also remember what I described finding to the Lord and Lady upon Craban 's rescue?"

Haldir thought a moment. It had been ten years, not long in an elf's life, but long enough for a most busy Marchwarden to forget particulars.

Irritated, Haldir growled, "Nay Rumil I do not recall the events of that time. However, I am quite certain that you shall refresh my memory presently," he said, rolling his eyes and reaching for a bottle of very strong apple wine.

And one goblet. Rumil seeing this, looked at Haldir with a hurt expression upon his face. Haldir caught his brother's gaze, rolled his eyes once more and reached back to get another goblet.

"'Tis not that I was not going to offer…more so, I was going to consume this…" He lifted the bottle in front of him, "…in its entirety…alone."

Annoyed, Rumil stood facing his brother with his arms crossed and a stern look on his face.

"May I continue lord Marchwarden? T'would be better for me to finish this little tale, before you become so besotted that you will be useless to me in helping to track your daughter," he said, tapping his foot impatiently and wagging his finger at the open window.

"Ai'! Aright! Aright!" Haldir sighed in exasperation and dropped back onto the chaise.

"As I was saying…I found three great beasts circling the pair protectively. The babe was next to her dead father, but she was nestled against one of them. It was keeping the babe warm and protected from the elements against its massive chest. This one was a female, as Craban was suckling."

He paused, giving Haldir time to recall the events. Haldir nodded for Rumil to continue.

"When the beasts sensed my approach, the two pacing circled around the one in the center, defensively. They were apparently quite intelligent, as they realized I meant no harm. They allowed me to approach the female and babe without harm befalling me. The female allowed me to take Craban from her, stood and bowed her head to me. It was amazing to see. I hurried back to Lórien with the babe, and the rest of the guardians, straight to the Lord and Lady, relaying what I had seen. The Lady smiled and said something to the effect of, "They still live. It has been told that the last of their kind had perished in the First Age, fighting the forces of Morgoth. This child is blessed. Much will come of her fate." Rumil finished, sat and took up a goblet of wine, peering over its edge at his brother.

Haldir had not said a word nor had he moved a muscle. He glanced at the window as Rumil sat down, a blank look on his face.

"I need to speak to the Lady. I know not when I shall return," he said, as he slowly rose and made his way to the door.

Before he departed he turned abruptly saying, "Leave some for me brother. I believe I shall be needing what is left of that, and several others before the day is out. If that was indeed Craban, mayhap you should track her as best you can, and when I return I shall come after you."

Rumil nodded in agreement and as soon as Haldir left the flet, he was on his way to the ground and dashing into the forest. He searched for what seemed like hours with a half dozen guardians, before he was joined by Haldir and a dozen more warriors. Together they broke that section of the forest into a grid and sent each warrior into a grid portion. The contingent searched all night and into the next day before a trace of the creature could be found.

Rumil and Haldir were joined by Orophin, who had just come off of a border patrol, when he heard of Craban 's disappearance.

"Mae Govannen brothers, I have come to render my assistance," he said to the two haggard and weary wardens, gazing up at him from their seated positions against a tree.

"Many thanks brother for your help," said Haldir, getting to his feet wearily. "The cursed beast has not left a trace to go on. I am at my wits end. If it be Craban, she will surely be in need, as the nights are getting colder."

Rumil nudged his oldest brother in the ribs, reminding him that whatever that creature was, it had a full fur coat for protection from the elements.

"Ah aye, how could I forget," Said Haldir rolling his eyes, and walking on ahead.

Several hours later they had come to a small pond a league or so from where the creature had first entered the woods. Haldir stumbled upon a strange small print in the soft mud that had been left not more than an hour or so before.

"It is here somewhere, brothers. Spread the company out. I want every tree and blade of grass scrutinized," he said to his brothers quietly.

As the troop fanned out, Orophin barely made out a soft sob-growl somewhere near by. He scanned the woods and underbrush seeing no sign of that which was making the sound. His gaze returned to the trees above him. He craned his neck to look at the tree canopies and caught a fleeting glance at something moving swiftly through the boughs. Silently, he began to climb the mallorn, hugging himself against its bark when he thought the creature was glancing his way. As he made his way to the top, the creature leapt from that tree to the next and rested in its golden boughs.

Hoping that it would stay put, he signaled his brothers with their own personal call. Both came running and stood at the foot of the tree Orophin was in. Quickly they scaled the massive trunk and soon joined their brother in its canopy.

"There it is Haldir," whispered Orophin, straining his eyes to keep it in sight. It blended in perfectly with its surroundings.

Rumil and Orophin left the tree they were in, to climb the one the small furred creature was resting in. Haldir remained where he was. He watched as his two brothers made their way up the trunk, and then watched as the creature suddenly stiffened and gazed about, sniffing the air. It let out a feral screech, and made to leap from the tree, when Haldir's voice thundered through the tranquil forest.

"Craban! You do not move! Do you understand? Stay right where you are!"

It spun on its haunches looking for the direction of the voice, then screeched when it saw Rumil and Orphan's heads peer over the leafy boughs.

Haldir leapt into the tree and stood menacingly over the little beast, now cowering in the center of the canopy, hissing pitifully, surrounded by three very annoyed elves. Haldir removed his cloak and, in a blur of movement, tossed it over and around the bewildered animal before it could scurry out of the tree. He struggled to keep a hold on the hissing, screeching, squirming ball of fur in his arms, as he climbed down the trunk. It was almost nightfall before the troop emerged from the wood, and Haldir took the furred bundle, still tightly wrapped in his cloak, directly to Lady Galadriel. When he stepped into her chambers, she asked that he put the bundle down on the bed and step back. The Lady gently uncovered the animal, which was now shivering in fear, and trying to make itself even smaller as the cloak was removed.

"There, there little one. Do not be frightened. You are safe here," cooed the Lady, as she stroked the shiny black fur and scratched its head with her long fingers.

As it calmed down under the Lady of Light's gentle touch, it started to make sounds similar to purring, from what Haldir could make of it. He was prepared to dive upon the little demon should it try to run from the room, but the Lady assured him that that would not happen.

"Such a cute little thing Haldir. 'Tis positively terrified. What did you and your brothers do to her to work her into such a state?"

Haldir's jaw dropped. What did we do to IT? He cleared his throat and said, "M'lady, with all due respect, this little dem..."

He stopped in mid sentence, seeing the disapproval in the Lady's eyes upon his choice of words. He cleared his throat again.

"This little beast led us on a merry three day chase. We finally found it nigh to the eastern borders of the Wood. T'was not easy to either track nor capture."

He looked at the creature disdainfully, then at his shredded cloak, and then to the Lady.

"Pardon, but is this truly Craban m'lady?"

"Aye 'tis Haldir. This is your daughter. I shall need to keep her here for a few days, as this is likely the first time she has taken this form. She does not know how to become her normal self, nor how she got into this state, and shall need my harbour."

Haldir sucked in a sharp breath. Sweet Eru…his daughter might be trapped in the body of this little black demon forever? He could not bear to think of it.

"Take your rest Marchwarden, she will be well," said Galadriel, picking up the small creature gently in her arms, and handing him back his ruined cloak.

He looked at it wearily and said, "Aye m'lady," taking it in his hands and leaving her apartments.

Rumil and Orophin were waiting for their brother below.

"Well? Is that truly Craban?" they both asked together.

Haldir stared at the both of them, clearly annoyed and irritated.

"Aye," he said roughly, as he briskly strode past both of them on his way to his flet, tossing the ruined cloak over his shoulder.

Several days later Haldir was summoned to the Lady's quarters and was beside himself with joy to have Craban run into his arms.

"My sweet! You have caused me to age millennia, little one!" he said happily, taking her up in his strong arms and putting her up on his shoulders.

She was giggling and carrying on as if nothing ever happened.

"There is much we need to discuss Haldir. Lord Celeborn will take her for the afternoon and you and I shall talk," said the Lady, as she motioned for Haldir to join her on the balcony.

He gave Craban's hand to Celeborn who took her, still giggling, out to the gardens.

Haldir gently nudged Arohtarë awake, who had begun to chuckle in her sleep. Her eyes fluttered open and she found herself peering into Haldir's amused gray-green eyes.

"You have found humor in your slumber I take it?" he asked with a raised brow.

"Aye I did. T'was the story of how you and my uncles found me in the trees when I was but 10 winters."

He chuckled at the memory. "Ai'! Quite the chase you led us on meleth. Quite the chase."

His eyes softened a bit as he took her chin in his gloved fingers.

"T'would seem like only yesterday Arohtarë, not nigh 160 winters past. You have brought such joy to my life, lirimier. So much joy…" he whispered and cradled her in his arms, as his own memory reached back to happier times.

He was brought out of his thoughts almost immediately, as a sentry called the time silently and Arohtarë gave the silent order to fall in. All were on their feet and mobilized in seconds. Haldir's voice drifted softly into her mind as the marched.

**_'We have a long journey ahead of us meleth. Pray that we are unhindered in our march.'_**

She paused, as his words ended.

**_'Aye, I have prayed for such and our victory, melethron,'_**

They glanced at each other sadly and then both looked ahead at the trail before them. Onward they marched for hours. Hundreds of feet moving in swift and silent unison. As the dawn of the first day approached, Arohtarë's mind continued to flood with more memories of her past, of the recent visit of the Fellowship to the Golden Wood, and the vision of her first love, as she had seen him nigh two moons ago.

**  
- First Encounter -   
**

_The Lady summoned her early one summer morn, as Haldir readied to head out and escort a diplomatic envoy from Mirkwood to the Golden Wood, the following morning. He would be gone about a month and it would be the very first time that he would be away from her._

"Ada, do be careful. I only wish I could come with you."

Haldir looked up from his packing and smiled. "Someday tithenpen-nîn - my little one, once you have passed your trials and have made the Guard. In days gone past I would have taken you with me without hesitation. 'Tis a far more dangerous journey now a days than when before you came to me. We shall do more traveling once you are in the ranks iell-nîn - my daughter."

She frowned at this, causing Haldir to look at her in confusion.

"What did I say?"

"I am no longer a child Ada...nor am I little."

He rose and went to her side. "You are only 18 iell, and you will always be my little one," he said, kissing the crown of her head.

"I am of age for many things now Ada. I am human remember? I am just as of age as any elf of 50 winters."

He pursed his lips looking at his daughter, standing defiantly before him, arms crossed about her chest. Even at her young age, she struck an imposing figure. She was quite tall for a human female and had a very muscular physique. She could hold her own with many of his guardians, due to her unusual strength, speed, and agility, but she was still too young to be traipsing about Middle Earth for his liking. Even in his own company. He strummed his fingers over his own crossed arm, as he contemplated her words. Her weapons and hand-to-hand skills were quite good enough overall, though her archery skills could be better. She was adept with sword and blade though. He shook his head absently. No. Not this time. He felt it best to let her become a guard first before allowing her to travel with either diplomatic or border patrol parties.

"Maybe so tithenpen-nîn, but not this time. I promise that the next trip outside the borders, should you make the Guard by then, you shall accompany me."

She hissed reluctantly under her breath and turned from him, staring out the living room window of their talan. That could be months from now. He sighed in frustration at her demeanor. Human or no she was still 18. Too young to know of or experience many things in this world.

"I suppose next you will say I am too young to attend the Summer Solstice Feast," she voiced lowly.

His breath caught in his throat and he held himself from choking out loud. He had forgotten about that. She began asking questions about the festival over a month ago. Definitely she was too young to attend that! He cleared his throat.

"Aye. You are too young. Especially for this feast."

"I am of age Adar!" she replied loudly, defiantly and in frustration.

Haldir closed his eyes, clenching his jaw and fighting to hold onto his self-control. Valar, did he tire of her defiant stubborn attitude to almost everything he'd say to her of late.

"I have spoken iell. You cannot attend this year's feast. I shall not speak of this again," he said calmly, returning to his task of packing.

He heard a deep growl, as the door to the talan slammed shut and Craban bound from the flet. He turned just in time to see a flash of black, and then it was gone.

"Sweet Eru..." he muttered, as he went to the window and watched as the creature flew down the tree and into the woods.

He sighed then opened the talan door and yelled down to his brothers.

"Rumil! Orophin! She is loose again!"...

Craban found her usual tree, deep in the golden wood and swiftly climbed to its canopy. Settling into the crook of a comfortable bough she sighed. Her father vexed her so. Can he not see that I am no longer a child? I am human, not elf! At 50 I will be middle aged, for the sake of Arda! She thought, as she gazed over the fair city in the distance. She sat there for several hours, letting the soothing song of the tree quell her anger.

**'Have you forgotten our meeting young one?'** A soft voice suddenly brought her from her own thoughts.

"Ai'! Lady Galadriel!" She started at the sound of her voice in her mind.

"I am coming m'lady!" she spoke out loud, as she scrambled down the trunk and took off towards the city.

Musical laughter filled her mind as she hurried to keep her audience with the Lady of Light.

"So she has left again?" asked Rumil, sipping on some wine as Orophin looked on.

"Aye. And not in good humor I fear."

"What pray tell was the argument over this time dear brother, if I might ask?" asked Orophin.

"She wishes to attend the Solstice Feast. I have told her she can not."

The two brothers looked at each other quizzically then looked at Haldir.

"And why would you say such?" asked Rumil innocently.

Haldir literally growled at his brother.

"Why? Why! She is too young! That is why! She knows naught about the ways of love and life! That is why!"

Both brothers looked at Haldir impassively, as they quietly sipped their wine, peering at him over their goblets. Haldir blinked several times at them then gazed at them with a very stern look.

"You believe I have erred in my judgment?"

Both nodded silently. Haldir clenched his jaw and hissed to himself. Rumil cleared his throat and spoke first, risking suicide.

"Brother, this is her opportunity to find out about such things. That is what the first Solstice Feast is for. For ones coming of age to choose their first lovers."

Haldir shot him a gaze full of daggers. Rumil brushed him off.

"She is of age Haldir," he said with a shrug.

"I do not wish for her to have a lover!" he thundered.

"Dear brother, you shall soon have no say over what you wish or do not wish for her. She is swiftly passing that stage where your parental nurturing is needed."

Haldir turned on his younger brother. Orophin merely returned his gaze.

"And what do you know of parenting Orophin? You, of all people, can be a model of chastity for her? Your escapades and kind of reputation are the very things I am trying to protect her from!"

Neither brother took what their elder was saying to heart. They knew that he was reluctant to even admit that his daughter was no longer the little girl he still saw in his mind's eye. She had grown into a beautiful, human woman and was eager to test her wings.

"Either allow her to go to the Feast Haldir or she will find other avenues on her own to test the waters by," said Orophin, as he and Rumil began to take their leave.

Haldir just glared after them. Once they had left, he grabbed a full bottle of fruited wine, and a goblet, and poured himself a draught. Drank it in one shot then poured another.

"Craban, I thought you had forgotten our meeting," said the Lady, motioning for the mortal to take a seat.

"Truth be told, another matter came up and I did," Craban said, a slight frown clouding her lips.

Galadriel studied her face for a moment then smiled.

"Well then. Do not dwell on such thoughts. I have asked you here to do Lórien a great service."

Craban looked at the Lady with a hint of excitement in her eyes. "M'lady?"

"I would like you to serve as Lórien's official guide to some of the visitors that are coming from Mirkwood."

"Truly? You would ask this of me?"

"Aye Craban I would. You are of age to now be able to take on some responsibilities of a future warden."

Craban just stared at the Lady of Light. Warden? Her a Marchwarden? She had not give that any thought at all, as her father had said that it would be many years before she would be ready for the rigorous trials that a warden would have to endure.

"But my Adar..."

Galadriel laughed. "Your Adar is just that ...your Adar. He does not wish to admit that you are coming of age my dear. You are quite ready for such things," she said, patting the mortal woman's hand. "Now, in addition to being a guide for said visitors you shall also be needed to attend the Solstice Feast with them."

Craban's heart sank. The feast. A sore subject indeed. Galadriel saw the expression change on the young woman's face.

"You do not wish to attend the Feast?"

"Ai'! Oh aye! I truly do wish to go but Adar says..."

The Lady curled her fingers around Craban 's chin and turned her face up to hers.

"Your Adar says what young one? That you are too young and cannot go?" Craban looked up at the woman sadly and sighed.

"Aye," she whispered, swallowing and holding back the tears that were threatening to spring forth.

"It is my wish that you attend my dear, and attend you shall. This is your first is it not?"

"Aye."

Galadriel chuckled. Oh yes, the Marchwarden would be literally beside himself in fury. She would see to it that several very robust guardians were present when his daughter chose her first love.

"'Tis still some weeks away my child so you have plenty of time to ready yourself and decide who you shall choose."

Craban was ecstatic. Her joyous mood suddenly turned somber. How was she going to be able to tell Adar?

"Do not worry yourself. He shall be told forthwith." Craban was startled, as her silent question was verbally answered by the Lady.

She giggled. "Thank you Lady Galadriel," she said giving the great lady a hug. Pulling back slightly she added, "You are the Naneth - mother I never had you know," she whispered, as she leapt out the door of the Lady's chambers and made her way back home.

Galadriel was speechless upon hearing the young woman's words, and the sincerity in which she spoke. She had not felt such feelings since her own daughter was her age, many centuries before. In many ways, Craban reminded her of Celebrian, and Galadriel smiled at the memories, tears welling up in her gray eyes.

Haldir was asleep in his chair by the time Craban made it home. She looked at her father, giggled and then went to her room. She would need to speak with Namriel, her father's assistant, about making her white dress for the feast. It was only six weeks away and much was needed to be done. Hearing the click of her door handle, Haldir awoke with a start, and a pounding in his head.

"Ai'!" Rising, he made his way to her door and knocked.

To his surprise Craban answered it with a smile on her face. Wholly perplexed and pleasantly surprised, Haldir looked at her quizzically.

"You are well iell?" he asked.

"Aye. Quite. I had an audience with Lady Galadriel."

"Aye, it went well I take it?" he asked, hoping she would tell him of what it was about.

"Oh yes. I should say it did," she replied, not giving away any hint of what transpired, as she knew he had hoped.

She would make a good dignitary and warden with that attitude, he thought, as he reluctantly turned and returned to his chair.

The next morning found Craban biding her father farewell and itching to get on with her Solstice preparations. To her knowledge, Haldir had not yet been told of her personal invitation to the feast, but she wasn't going to worry about that. She headed off to Namriel's workshop, humming to herself. Haldir, on the other hand, left Lórien with a heavy heart and mind. Drinking two and a half bottles of wine the previous eve had not helped his situation either. Where in Mordor did 18 years go? She was nothing more than a bundle of fluff when she was brought to him by the Lady and Lord. He had temporarily given up his Warden's duties to care for her, all these years, and all of a sudden he was back on patrols and returning to his duties of being Lórien's Marchwarden once more. It was as if a blur, even for an elf. He sighed. He would have much time to ponder whether or not to allow Craban to attend the feast between now and his return from Mirkwood.

During the long days before her father returned, Craban kept herself occupied with her studies, training, and visiting Namriel. She was a bit lonely not having her father around so she tried to keep as busy as she could. She didn't think she'd feel his absence as much as she did, but feel it she was. Her uncles were good company and were keeping her under eagle eye scrutiny at the same time. Seeing that the Feast was fast approaching, and she was not allowed to go, to their knowledge, they were monitoring any of the male persuasion that might chance to come her way. Haldir had left her in their care and she was making the job a challenge to say the least. Still, she counted the days to her father's return.

The day finally arrived when the contingent from Mirkwood was sighted. The ancient horn was sounded while the group was still about a league away, but Craban charged down the path, the first standing at the great gates. When they swung open, Haldir and several of his senior wardens were at the head, followed by a contingent of darkly dressed elves, then more Lórien guards.

"Adar!" cried Craban, as she literally launched herself up onto Haldir's horse and into her father's arms.

"Valar! Can I not dismount before being attacked?" he gasped hard, as she knocked the wind from him, she hugging him tightly, as he slid off his mount.

"All is fair in love and war Adar. This being love," she giggled.

He sighed happily, kissing her head. It was good to be home and good to see his daughter once more.

As she stood back to see the Mirkwood contingent pass before her, one of the golden haired warriors had taken note of the greeting the Marchwarden had received.

'Adar?' he silently questioned, noting her hair color.

He smiled quizzically to himself. The raven-haired girl was full of spirit and quite athletic from what he observed. She nearly vaulted Haldir's mount getting to him. He was almost to her now, as she stood by Haldir's side, the rest of the Mirkwood contingent passing through the gates.

She was looking at his party with wide eyes, obviously never having seen people from his realm before, and appeared quite young. As he got closer, he noticed that she was not of elf kind. Yet she had the stature and physique.

"Interesting..." he said to himself.

For a moment, her eyes locked on his suddenly, and he was taken aback by the brilliance of them. He found himself taking in a sharp breath, as they were the greenest he had ever seen on a living creature.

"Valar!..." He whispered to himself, as he passed by her and her father.

As he did so, he noted that she was nearly the Marchwarden's height, highly unusual for a human, let alone a female human, for that matter. She had to be at least 6'3". He, himself, was slightly shy of 6'5" and Haldir was at least 6'6". He shook his head in disbelief. He decided that he would like to get to know this elleth a bit better during his stay.

That evening Haldir and Craban were readying for the feast being held in honor of the visitors. She was clad in a golden tunic, black leggings and soft suede boots with a trailing black robe draped around her shoulders. Haldir looked to her and sighed. He had to admit that she looked absolutely stunning in her raiments but he wished that, just once, she would don a gown.

" Craban you look beautiful but..." he stopped in mid-sentence, as Craban held up her hand and bowed her head. He sighed loudly once more.

"We have had this conversation before Adar. Dresses are impractical and wasteful of material. How women can move in them without tripping and breaking their necks, I am at a loss to say."

Haldir groaned. "I only hope the Lord and Lady are as willing to abide by your decision. There are foreign dignitaries present this eve iell."

"Then I shall take whatever scorn they have to deliver upon myself Adar. After all, what I look like no longer can be blamed upon you," she giggled, seeing the face Haldir was making in her direction.

As they entered the Feasting Hall, many eyes turned in their direction. Haldir was well liked and loved by many elle, and Craban had gained some fair looks herself from many ellyn the past weeks. Mainly due to the fact that she was of her majority this year. The Mirkwood delegation was located near the entryway and when they entered, the same Mirkwood warrior, who had noticed her upon their arrival in the golden wood, looked up in awe. Her eyes drifted to his momentarily then turned back towards the front. One of his counterparts smacked him on the arm playfully, forcing him to turn his attentions back to his conversation.

Haldir kept a steel gaze upon his daughter the entire night. He was sitting slightly behind and to her side, and anytime an ellon approached her to dance, he shot them a blood-curdling glare. The ellon would quickly divert his stride to the other elle sitting at their table. All to the annoyance of Craban.

"Adar!" She hissed, turning to look at him.

He merely gazed away innocently, making conversation with an older elleth to his right.

"Honestly Adar!" She said in disgust, rolling her eyes. S

he rose and glanced over the hall, searching for the easiest escape route through the sea of bodies. Seeing that Haldir was engrossed in his conversation, she silently slipped from the table and out the side door behind her, unnoticed by all, save the Mirkwood elf that had an interest in her. Soon, there was another empty space at Mirkwood's table, gone unnoticed as well.

Craban swiftly made her way to her favorite tree, far from the din of the revelry going on in the great hall.

"By the Valar! 'Tis maddening to be held captive by an overprotective Adar! And the Marchwarden at that!" she quipped to herself, as she made her way to the familiar bough and settled in its crook.

She let out a long breath; reveling in the solitude and serenity her perch provided her. She leaned her head back and gazed at the stars glittering in the absolutely clear sky.

"This is much better than a boring feast and dance anyway," she muttered, watching a falling star off on the western horizon.

The ellon had made his way out of the great hall but was baffled by not seeing the elleth he sought. How could she, a mortal, disappear from the view of several hundred elves and move so swiftly? And from him of all of people? It could not have been more than a minute since her departure from the hall that he was not right behind her. He scoured the ground, looking for a hint of her direction. By rights, her footsteps should have been heavier than an elf's, but he saw no evidence of her departure on the common paths. He looked up suddenly. He thought he heard soft singing. He focused his hearing into the darkness. There it was again. It sounded like singing coming from far out in the woods. At least he could track the sounds, if he could not see the trail. He moved off silently into the woods, following the sweet melodic voice.

The sweet voice grew closer, as he swiftly made his way into the great stand of Mallyrn. Looking up, he could barely make out a nearly invisible figure lying against a great bough. Not wanting to startle the elleth, he was about to clear his throat to note his presence, when the singing suddenly stopped in mid chorus. She slowly looked down through the boughs and saw a very handsome ellon gazing at the ground. If he were found to have followed her, Haldir would have his head.

'He is too beautiful to have his head anywhere else but where it is,' she thought, chuckling silently to herself, as she watched him peer back up into the leafy boughs.

She had concealed herself by this time and the ellon was hard pressed to locate her again. She sat back against the crook and closed her eyes. Now what?

Quickly she glanced at the trees next to her. She could easily take to the canopies and make her way back to the hall, through the trees, without the ellon noticing. Silently she stood and lightly leaped from her tree to the next then to the next. The ellon was perplexed when he looked back up and saw nothing. Where did she go, and how did she move without him hearing or seeing her? Craban made her way to the last tree before the common paths and leapt silently to the ground. She calmly walked back into the hall, Haldir glaring steadily at her as she made her way back to the table.

"And where, pray tell, have you been iell?"

She calmly returned the gaze.

"I needed air Ada. I am terribly bored here, and since I have not been asked to dance..." she glared at him defiantly, "...I thought it more exciting to gaze at the stars for a bit."

Rumil stifled a laugh and Haldir turned his glare upon him. His brother moved to another table.

The warrior returned a short time later, a confused and bewildered look upon his face at seeing the elleth, sitting calmly back at her table next to her father. Impossible! He thought, as he rejoined his comrades for the rest of the evening. Craban avoided looking at him for fear that it would bring her father's wrath down upon him. Mayhap she would seek him out at a later and more opportune time. She smiled, glancing slyly and unnoticed at her father.

Arohtarë came out of her thoughts and glanced overhead, noting the position of the sun. She then glanced at Haldir who acknowledged her with a nod. They had been marching for nigh 16 hours straight and she silently conversed with the Marchwarden as to the next place where they could rest the troops. He indicated that there was a well-concealed suitable area slightly ahead, against the mountains where they would hold up for a few hours. She nodded her agreement then signaled her unit commanders to prepare for a rest period in an hour or so.

Suddenly, she abruptly signaled the army to halt, causing Haldir to give her a sharp glance. Once he saw her stand stock still with her eyes closed, his expression softened. She had sensed something ahead. Something only one of the four-leggeds could acknowledge.

**_'What have you sensed meleth?'_** he silently asked, as he heard a low growl rumble from her throat.

**_'WARGS'_** came her sharp reply, as she swiftly and noiselessly disappeared into the timberline.

Haldir held the troops at bay, as he waited for a signal from Arohtarë that all was well. He neither heard nor saw anything for a long while until a great shriek filled the air from slightly up ahead. The troops stood nervously, eyes darting about, trying to pinpoint where the sounds were coming from. Several more shrieks pierced the air then silence.

A short time later, Arohtarë appeared suddenly in front of the Marchwarden, blood spattered over the front of her golden armor. Those troops in the front ranks stared at her in horror, thinking that the Lady had been grievously injured. Soon they realized that it was not her blood dripping from her armor, and their eyes widened in wonder.

**_'Are you well meleth?'_** he asked in concern, as he eyed the tendrils of crimson trickling down her breastplate.

**_'Aye Haldir. I am well. The path ahead is now clear. T'was a pack of four Wargs and riders. None escaped and they shall not impede our march.'_**

He breathed a sigh of relief. If not for her feral senses, they could very well have been badly defeated before they even reached the Helm. The Warg riders were spies of Saurman, coming from Isengard, and if she had not felled them, hundreds more would have followed in their wake, if these scouts had spotted the elven army.

**_'Valar be praised for your gifts Arohtarë.'_**

She smiled and took her place by the Marchwarden's side, signaling the army to move along. Within an hour's time, they had made their way to the place where the Wargs and orc riders lay dead. The elven army marched by in silence and awe. Not all were aware of what walked among them, but all now felt that there was a silent ally in their midst.

Haldir gave Arohtarë a knowing smile and mentally said,**_Dolle lle meleth-nîn, Im meleth lle - Thank you my love, I love you.'_** as they marched past the corpses.

She nodded in acknowledgement and then looked ahead.

As day turned into their second night, Arohtarë again drifted into her thoughts of her first meeting with the love of her life.

**   
- A Mirkwood Elf's Guide to Lórien -   
**

_The next morning a messenger came to their flet with a note for Craban. It was her instructions to take one of the Mirkwood elves for a guided tour of Lórien. It told her what guest quarters she would find him in and that she should take him where ever he chose to go. She sighed._

'Well, so much for seeking out the ellon of last eve,' she thought as she finished dressing.

"Have a good day Ada. I have my orders for the day from the Lady," she said as she kissed Haldir on the cheek.

"And what would they be iell?" he asked raising a brow.

"I am to take one of the Mirkwood visitors on a tour of Lórien."

"Ah. Well then, run along and enjoy yourself. I will not expect you for lunch or dinner then?"

"Not sure! I will be home when I am able!" she yelled, as she bound from the talan and deftly climbed down the trunk.

When she arrived at the guest quarters, she was a bit surprised to see a Mirkwood guard standing at the path to the talan. He bowed, and allowed her to climb to its door. She knocked, and as the door opened, she almost fell off of the platform. Standing in the doorway, barefooted, was the ellon that stood below her tree last eve! He stood there with the same bewildered look upon his face as well.

"Mae govannen hiril-nîn. - Greetings m'lady," he said, stepping aside and gesturing for her to come in.

"Maer aur hîr-nîn. - Good morn, m'lord. I am your guide this day," she said weakly. He smiled. This is definitely going to be a good day, he thought, as she cleared her throat and then introduced herself.

"I'm Craban Haldiriell. Mae tollen na mar-nîn - I am Craban, daughter of Haldir. Welcome to my home."

He took and kissed the back of her hand saying, "Pen gel hiril-nîn. Im Legolas Thranduilion. Dolle lle. - A pleasure m'lady. I am Legolas, son of Thranduil. Thank you."

"Pen gel Legolas hir-nîn. - A pleasure m'lord Legolas."

"Please, just Legolas," he said, as he sat down and began putting on his boots.

"Where would you care to go this day Legolas?" she asked, not looking at him.

Putting on his last boot he looked up and said, "The daughter of the Marchwarden should be able to hold her own on the training fields I should think."

She raised a brow. She was not prepared to train today, as she didn't have her weapons.

"Ergh…I have no weapons with me Legolas. I would have to go back to my talan to fetch them."

"Do not fret hiril-nîn, a bit of sparring would be just as acceptable to archery practice," he said brightly.

She looked down at her clothing. She wasn't in her training garb. She looked back up at the elf. He saw her concern and chuckled.

"Come. We shall go to your talan then, for you seem uncomfortable to do anything without proper equipment or attire." She smiled.

If it were sparring he wished, she would oblige gladly.

They made their way to her talan, chatting about nothing in particular along the way. They climbed to the flet and Legolas waited in the living room, as Craban changed. When she emerged from her room she was dressed in the usual sliver-gray colored tunic, black leggings and boots, her sword at her side, and bow/quiver harness strapped to her back. Legolas stared at her in concealed awe. She was imposing and formidable looking in her finery, even for her young age.

"Hiril-nîn. 'Tis well that you are one of us!" he said, taking her hand and leading her from the flet.

Once on the fields, she removed her weaponry, as did he, in preparation for a bit of sparring. He was very quick and struck swiftly like a snake.

Craban was hard pressed to keep out of his reach. Several times he bested her, taking her to the ground hard. She proved to be a handful once on the ground however, and it took everything Legolas had to keep his hold upon her. She was able to escape his grasp several times and pinned him onto his back. Calling a truce, she rose and helped him to his feet. Both were breathing heavily, eyeing each other suspiciously and brushing the dirt from their clothing.

"You impress me young one. You are quite good. Improvement is needed, but you are well trained."

"Thank you. You are not too poor a sparring partner either," she giggled, dodging a playful strike from the elf.

"Do you have a bit left in you to try the archery range?" he said, wagging his eyebrows mischievously.

"Archery is not yet a strong suit of mine but I will give it some attention." She looked up at him impishly. "Game on Legolas! Race you!" she cried, as she raced him to the targets. She was amazingly swift and light on her feet, pressing the elf to keep slightly ahead of her.

"Valar Craban! Where in Arda did you learn to run like that?" he exclaimed admiringly, as they struggled to catch their breath. She managed a choked laugh.

"I have always been a swift runner dear Elf. Comes to good use do you not think?" He nodded as he pulled his bow from his harness. "Adar has made me a messenger between guard units."

"I should say that was a wise move on your Adar's part," he said, nocking an arrow onto his bow.

"You go first."

"Nay Legolas. I would rather you," she said kicking at the dirt.

He noted the frustration in her voice but said nothing. Instead he nodded and then fired a perfect shot to the center of the furthest target, two furlongs distant. She stared at his shot; eyes wide then bowed her head.

"Come. It is now your turn," he said, moving her by the shoulders in front of the target.

"Nay Legolas. I think not. I am better with sword and blade."

He looked at her sternly. "Aye, and so you shall be with the bow. Load an arrow hiril-nîn. Now."

He pointed to her quiver. She sighed and reluctantly did as she was bid. She looked at the arrow then at the Elf. He wagged his finger at the bow.

"Ai' by the Valar..." she grumbled, loading her bow.

"Now, shoot. I desire to see your form." She glowered at the target; looking from it to the Elf, then back, when he physically turned her head towards it.

"Fire."

She drew the bow and launched the arrow. It hit the target, but on the edge of one of the outer most circles. She sighed.

"I told you I was not very good," dropping her gaze to the ground once again. He turned her face up to his.

"Hiril-nîn. How old are you?"

"18 winters."

"Ah. And how old do you think I am?"

She shook her head, shrugging.

"Nigh 2,800 winters. I have had a considerably longer period of time to practice my skills with the bow than you young one. With time, and a bit more practice, you shall become a fine archer," he said with a smile. "Now. Load another arrow and I will help you to steady your aim," he told her, now with a serious tone. He stepped behind her, placing one hand over her hand holding the bow and the other on her other, holding the string.

He leaned close to her, his face pressed lightly next to her left ear.

"Put less of your fingers on the string. Use just the first sections of fingertips and do not hold it so tightly. Good."

He helped her lock her left arm and straighten her wrist.

"Now. Hold your breath just before you release the string. Lightly release your fingers from the string when I say."

She steadied herself, trying to remember all he was telling her.

"Hold, hold, release," he whispered in her ear.

The arrow flew true and landed on the inner center circle's line. She blinked, not believing where the arrow had landed. Never had she come close to the center at this range. She looked at Legolas in bewilderment.

"I did not do that."

"Aye you did. You held the form…"

"Nay. It was really you."

He gazed at her with feigned annoyance.

"Load another arrow. You will do this without my assistance this time. Just remember what I told you and hold your arms and fingers as I instructed. Release when I say."

She loaded her bow.

"Prepare."

She drew back the string.

"Hold, hold, release."

The arrow jumped off the bow, burying itself just slightly to the left and below her previous shot. She stared at the target in disbelief.

"Si lirimier - I had nothing to do with your making that shot."

She gazed at the bow, then to the target, then to the Elf and blinked. He laughed at her expression.

" I have never been able to hit that target that well, Legolas. Never. I am just able to do a modest job of getting shots to the closest one."

"You cannot say that any longer, lirimier," He said taking the bow from her and placing it into her harness.

"I believe that will be enough of training for today, aye?" he asked, stepping back and then in front of the woman.

"Aye. Where would you like to go now? I have not taken you anywhere as of yet."

"Choose your most favorite place." She grinned and led him by the hand.

It took about a half hour to make their way to her tree. They climbed swiftly to her favorite bough, she settling into her crook. He sat across from her.

"You can see the entire city from up here Legolas. No one but Adar and myself know of this spot."

She thought a moment. "Ergh... And now you do too, as of last night," she said quietly, as thoughts of the past eve swirled in her mind.

"Speaking of which..." he said, taking her hand in his and smiling. "How was it that you were able to escape me and return to the feasting hall without my knowing?"

She looked at him and grinned wickedly. "I have my methods."

"Ah. Secretive are we? Well then, know that it shall not happen again," he said firmly, his eyes sparkling brightly.

"Would you dare put a wager on that statement?" She asked, giving him a challenging glance.

He raised a dark brow at her boldness.

"Aye. I would. Let me see...what shall I risk a wager of...?" She looked at him expectantly. "Hmm...I know, should I win this little challenge, which I shall..." he quipped arrogantly, glancing in her direction, "...I request the first and all subsequent dances at the upcoming Solstice Feast."

She grinned. Both would be winning if that were his request.

"That does not appear to be a difficult thing for me to palate m'lord elf." He grinned. "And if you lose?"

"Ah. Which I shall not, but let us say if so...You are free to choose the consequence upon my head and at your leisure," he chuckled.

She thought a moment then said, "Agreed."

They shook hands and she looked to the sky.

"Ai'! By Eru! It is almost dusk! Someone surely will be looking for us, I should think," she said glancing towards her talan off in the distance.

"Are you in such a hurry to release your charge for the day before the stars awaken young one?" He said, looking at her a bit sadly. "'Tis my favorite time of day."

She rolled her eyes. "Honestly! We can stay for a while longer I suppose," she said giggling.

"Then we must reposition ourselves," he said, reaching his arms out to her.

She paused, thinking that he would have come to sit beside her. He noted her hesitation and retracted his hands. Not wanting to make her uncomfortable, he then moved to shift his position to sit next to her, when she suddenly made her way to him.

"T'would be better to view the sky from your side," she said quietly. He raised his brow at her sudden decision and offered his arms once more. She took his offer and sat back against him, he wrapping his arms about her waist. He leaned his head back against the rough bark, she laying her head against his shoulder.

**  
- Haldir's Fury -   
**

Haldir was pacing furiously when Rumil entered his talan. He glared at his brother.

"Where is she? 'Tis nigh dinner time and she has not yet returned."

"Mayhap her charge has wanted to see the far reaches of Lórien, Haldir. She said she would be home when she was able."

"Who she is guiding is what I would desire to know," he spat and stopped pacing. "I am going to the Lady. She sent Craban on this wild goose chase and she shall know who her charge is."

He stomped out of the talan, leaving Rumil to stare after him.

"We should be getting back Legolas. By Eru, Adar is most likely gathering a scouting party to search for me." He laughed.

"Does he always keep a firm rein upon you Craban?"

"Aye. He does. 'Tis irritating and frustrating. I have become very good at evading his snares these last few months, I will say," she said with irritation as she rose.

Legolas just continued to chuckle.

"I cannot say that I blame him lirimier, as his daughter is quite beautiful and did attract the attentions of many ellyn last eve."

She froze in mid step and turned slowly to face him. Lirimier - lovely one? He tilted his head knowingly, as he smiled softly back at her. She looked at him quizzically.

"Aye. You are beautiful Craban. Not only outwardly but you carry great inner beauty as well."

She blinked. "I have never thought of myself in that way, as I have lived among elves my entire life. I have been surrounded by their beauty and see little in myself. These ellyn you speak of, are interested in one thing and one only, now that I am of age. They have little like of me otherwise. Only two or three would I call my true friends. I have been called many things by them, but never that. I hear what they say when they think I cannot. They believe me to be so young that I do not know the meaning behind their words," she said firmly and with disbelief at his words.

Now she thought he was just being kind and she was too proud for that.

"We must go," she said curtly, and began making her way down the trunk.

He stared after her in shock.

As she led him to his talan, one of the now two guards sniggered to his comrade and whispered something that he felt could not be heard by either the elf or mortal. She heard clearly their degrading comments, but it was lost on Legolas who had already begun to make his way to his rooms. He glanced back over his shoulder to see if she followed but was stunned to see her standing immobile, a shocked look upon her face. He made his way back down and to her side.

"Hiril-nîn? What troubles you?"

She would not look at him. He turned her face up to his and saw unshed tears in her eyes, clinging to their edges.

"In the morn, I shall inform the Lady that I do not wish to continue being a guide for your people m'lord. I am sure she will find a suitable replacement for both you and them," she said almost in a whisper.

"What is the matter Craban? Please, tell me."

"'Tis nothing to concern yourself with m'lord. Good eve."

She turned abruptly and literally flew down the path, at such a rate of speed that he thought she would careen off the side.

"Valar! What is going on?" he spat angrily, turning on the guards, eyeing them suspiciously. "If I find that either of you were the cause of that girl's discomfort, you will pay dearly for it. Also, if diplomatic relations are disrupted because of this incident, heads will roll. Is that clear?"

His tone was cold and deadly. Both looked at the prince with fear and nodded.

"You do realize that the truth of the matter will come forth eventually?"

They nodded again. He glared at them intently.

"Do you realize who she is?"

They both shook their heads in the negative.

"She is the Marchwarden's daughter. Once they have come under his wrath, if there is anything left of the individuals that have caused her such pain, I shall have to be satisfied with dealing with the remnants."

They both shot each other a quick glance, not lost on the prince. He wanted to go after her but thought better of it. He would need to find out exactly what was said and by whom before jumping to conclusions. If she were heading home, it would not be good to face the Marchwarden after her tale to him. He would deal with what ever came about at dinner. He made his way back up to his talan and readied for dinner.

Haldir and Craban were returning home at the same time, only she had more speed on the Eldar. She blasted past him on her way to her favorite tree, not even bothering to notice her father.

"Cre...ban..." he said, as he watched her fly past him. "What in Arda!"

Craban did not attend dinner in the feasting hall that evening, and Haldir thought better of going after her. He knew where she was and felt that even as desperate as he was to know what troubled her, she would not relent her troubles until she was damn good and ready to do so. As he pondered what in Arda had caused her such angst, Legolas brought him to.

"M'lord Haldir. May I have a word with you?"

Ah. Her charge for the day. He looked up coolly and nodded.

Haldir's eyes narrowed as the prince took a seat next to him.

"If this is in regards to the current condition of my daughter, you best speak plainly and to the point."

Legolas looked to Haldir in alarm.

"Is she well m'lord?"

Haldir studied the prince, noting the deep concern in his eyes. He realized that Legolas was likely not the cause of her discomfort.

"I do not know. She has not been seen for hours. She raced by me as if chased by a Warg earlier this eve."

"Then we must search for her," said the Prince, rising.

Haldir put his hand on the young elf's arm.

"Nay, prince, I know exactly where she is. To know Craban, 'tis best to leave her be until she wishes to return. My immediate concern is what caused her to be where she is to begin with."

Legolas looked at the Marchwarden curiously.

"That is what I am here to tell about."

As he told Haldir about what his guards had said, Legolas watched the Marchwarden's expression deteriorate from concern to blatant fury, during the course of the conversation. By the time Legolas had finished speaking, the corner of Haldir's upper lip was twitching, which concerned the young prince greatly for the safety of his men.

"Rest assured Marchwarden, they are being dealt with as we speak."

Haldir eyed the prince coldly then slowly rose.

"You do realize that diplomatic relations between the realms of Mirkwood and Lórien could be severely detrimented due to this incident, do you not?" hissed the Marchwarden.

"Aye I do, and will do whatever is in my power to hold that from occurring," replied the prince firmly.

"I shall need to speak with Craban once I am able 

_to wrest her from her stronghold."_

He closed his eyes grimacing, as he knew her present condition, and was not looking forward to the encounter. He opened his eyes and glowered at the prince.

"She holds the power to determine diplomatic fate in this case. After all, it was she who was disrespected and dishonored. She is old enough to speak for herself if she so chooses. Now, if you will excuse me, I must see to my daughter."

Legolas rose and bowed slightly, as Haldir hurried past him and out into the night. He let out a long breath and shook his head, as he walked back to his own table.

She sat in the tree for hours, past the setting of the moon, before Haldir risked climbing up into the mallorn.

"Craban?"

He heard a low growl and grimaced. Not a good sign. He sighed and began his descent.

"Adar. Why do you come?" Came a rasping voice.

He stopped his descent and looked back over his shoulder; flaming green eyes were peering back at him.

"I have come to talk iell."

Silence.

"I do not wish to talk, Adar."

"I know what troubles you iell. Legolas has told me all."

A deep growl emanated from the topmost bough.

Pause.

"I do not wish to talk," she repeated.

"Ai' Craban. As you wish. When you are ready you know where I shall be. Know that I love you iell and that I do not care to see you hurt."

"Aye Adar. I know. I love you too."

He heard her sigh softly, as he made his way to the ground and began walking to his talan.

Craban had not yet returned home by dawn, when Haldir was awoken by a loud rapping on his door.

"Valar! Who comes at this hour!" he hissed, throwing on his robe and literally stalking to his door.

He tore the door open violently, startling the Prince of Mirkwood.

"M'lord?" he swallowed, seeing the steely glare in Haldir's eyes. "Forgive me if I have awoken you, but I became concerned when Craban did not come for her archery lesson. She had said that she would meet me on the fields early, just after sunrise. I waited nigh to an hour past and she never appeared."

Haldir sighed. "Come in Legolas," he said stepping aside as Legolas entered. "She has not yet returned home."

The prince looked at the Marchwarden with great concern.

"Still your heart prince. She is well I believe; only deeply wounded. I chanced to meet with her last eve, but she was reluctant to speak. 'Tis not uncommon for her to remain in her concealment for days on end when troubled."

Legolas thought a moment, then looked up at the Marchwarden.

"M'lord. I shall go to her for I know where she keeps."

Haldir raised a brow at this, as no one, save himself, knew of her hideaway.

"Do you indeed?" he replied coolly, eyeing the young elf intently.

Legolas chuckled softly.

"Fear not m'lord Haldir. She brought me to her tree in the woods herself, when I asked her to show me her most favorite place in Lórien."

Haldir's brow disappeared almost into his hairline at this statement. She must have trusted him implicitly to have taken the crown prince to her most secretive place. He grunted lowly.

"As you wish. She seems to trust you for some reason. Highly unlike my iell. Mayhap she will listen to you."

Legolas rose and bowed, Haldir barely acknowledging it. As the prince opened the door to leave, Haldir called to him.

"Hearken to me Prince Legolas. Do not cause her hurt or deceive her youth, m'lord. Prince or no, you will answer to me otherwise."

Legolas nodded and left the flet chuckling softly to himself. Aye, her Adar would be a force to be reckoned with.

Legolas stopped at the foot of the mallorn Craban was curled up in. He swiftly made his way to the crook she was laying against and found her sound asleep. So he thought. As he moved to sit across from her, her eyes snapped open, both a deep moss green, and what he thought to have heard as a faint growl came from her throat. He blinked.

"Why do you come here, Legolas? I am not in the mood for company as of yet," she grumbled.

"You are late."

"I no longer wish for lessons."

"You have not been relieved of your duties as of yet hiril-nîn."

Sitting up, she groaned and glared at the prince through slitted eyes for a moment.

After she stretched she snapped, "Humph...very well. Where, pray tell, do you wish to go this morn then m'lord?"

"Legolas."

"Ai', Legolas," she rolled her eyes away in annoyance.

"To your talan. Your Adar is pacing the floor."

"'Tis naught. He does that all the time. He is the Marchwarden. Pacing is a pass time for him," she glowered again at him.

Legolas paused for a moment, trading a glace with her.

"They have been disciplined, lirimier. They shall not speak such again. Please accept my apologies for their behavior."

She continued glowering. "T'would prefer it from their own lips."

Legolas rose and extended his hand.

"Then you shall have it. Come."

She looked up at the prince and blinked impassively, looking away.

"Please Craban, come with me," urged the prince, hand still extended.

She looked back at him then reluctantly took his hand. They made their way to his quarters and he summoned his guards.

"You will follow us to the Marchwarden's talan," he said sternly, as the small party made its way to her talan.

Both guards glanced nervously at one another as they walked. Haldir was waiting within and was surprised to see Craban hand in hand with the Prince, followed by two guards.

"M'lord," said Legolas, as he entered with the small party.

"What is this about Prince?" asked Haldir quizzically, eyeing the guards.

"Prince! You are the Prince?" squeaked Craban, looking at Legolas in horror.

He shrugged, grinning sheepishly.

"Aye. I am."

She groaned and fell to the couch, hand over her eyes.

"Sweet Eru..." she mumbled.

He chuckled. "Craban has requested a formal apology of my guards," he said motioning for the two in question to come forward.

Haldir literally growled at them, causing the two to shrink back in fear. Legolas just forcefully nudged them closer.

"She shows great mercy and much more restraint than I myself would," he hissed.

Legolas glared sharply at the two guards.

"M'lady, I sincerely apologize for my dishonoring words. Forgive my disrespect."

The other guard stated the same. She eyed them with a cold and calculating gaze.

"I can take this to the Lord and Lady you do realize?" She said, icily.

"Aye."

"Aye."

"You could be shot."

They glanced at each other nervously. Haldir and Legolas also traded bewildered glances.

"Shot?" Asked Haldir staring at his daughter.

"Aye. By my hand if I be so moved. There was a comment about my skills as an archer by these two, among those regarding race. Two furlongs may be out of my reach at this time, but I am quite deadly at one…should the mood strike."

Haldir could not believe the fury in his daughter's voice. If she angered further...No. He would not let her. He quickly put his hand on her arm.

"Do you accept their apologies, iell?"

She blinked and thought for a moment.

"Aye. But I shall still decide if I will bring this to the attention of the Lord and Lady."

Haldir looked at the two guards and eyed Legolas.

"You may go. Mark my previous words to you both. You shall do well to inform the others of our contingent to do the same," said Legolas in a warning tone.

They nodded and then left the flet.

Both warriors watched as the guards left, then turned their attention back to Craban. She was curled up on the end of the couch, her fury stoked at a slow burn. Haldir opened his mouth to speak but Legolas motioned that he would take her on.

"Craban? Would you care to continue our tour of Lórien?"

She looked up demurely and then gazed back down to the floor.

"You did not tell me you were Mirkwood's prince."

Legolas glanced at Haldir then nodded, lips pursed. "Come hiril-nîn. Let us continue our walk of yesterday. We can speak all you wish then, and I shall answer any questions you might have."

She sighed. "As you wish," she said, reluctantly rising and leading the prince out of the talan. Legolas glanced quickly at Haldir, letting him know that all would be well by the time she returned that day.

They had been moving for at least 16 hours since their last rest period and were now nearly halfway to their destination. Haldir glanced at Arohtarë, noting that she was again lost in her thoughts, but still totally aware of her surroundings. Feeling his gaze, she looked over and smiled.

**_'You have been lost in thought most of our journey, lirimier,'_** he voiced in her mind.

She smiled at him again and replied, **_'Aye Haldir. 'Tis thoughts of my life that pass through my mind's eye. Wonderful memories of days gone by. I have not thought of such things for many years, and this journey has started the memories flowing for some reason.'_**

He walked on in silence for a moment then looked across at her. **_In truth, I have been inclined to do the same.'_**

She silently chuckled and he eyed her quizzically.

"What have you found so humorous, lirimier?" he asked bemused.

He smiled broadly at him and replied, **_'I did not think that we had that long a journey ahead, that you could fit nigh 4300 winters of life's memories within! There is barely enough journey to fit 165!'_**

He chuckled softly, reveling in the fact that she could still bring humor to dire situations. He always admired her ability to do so. She was a superb leader and the troops appreciated the levity she brought to them. He looked up at her and signaled that they were to rest at the end of the tree line. This would be their last and longest rest period, as they were approaching the Plains of Rohan. There would be little cover, other than hugging the mountain range, before making the Helm. Bands of Orcs would be lurking everywhere. They would march continuously from this last point onward until they entered the Helm. A double guard was posted, as the army dropped to the ground in exhaustion and into swift elvish slumber. Arohtarë curled against Haldir and drifted off into her own world of dreams once more.


	2. Chapter 2

Text that is in italics are flashbacks.

Text that is in bold italics is conversation taking place in the minds of characters speaking with each other.

_They walked all through the wood that day, taking in the mirrored ponds and waterfalls that were hidden within the golden paths. She asked a myriad of questions about his position and Mirkwood itself and gradually lost her anger to happiness. Over the next few weeks they became close friends and were rarely seen without the company of the other. Haldir was rather pleased that, of all those that the Lady could have chosen for his daughter to befriend, she had graced her with the crown prince._

Soon the week of the Feast was at hand and the entire kingdom was bustling with activity. One of the days, Craban brought the prince to a little known pool that had a small waterfall and sandy shore. Legolas looked around him in awe. It was absolutely beautiful here. The pool was as if a mirror, reflecting the sky and golden Mallyrn in its silvery surface. The falling water sounded as if a song as it broke the gilded surface. He looked down at Craban who just giggled.

"I though that you might want to visit a place a bit out of the public eye. T'would seem that wherever we have gone of late, you have been tracked with great intent," she chided. He grinned sheepishly. Indeed, he had been hounded by just about every eligible elleth in Lórien, more so as the day of the Feast grew nearer.

"Aye lirimier. 'Tis an unfortunate burden I must bear 'twould seem," he remarked, with a smile curling around his lips.

"Such modesty I have never encountered," she replied gently, smacking his arm. He laughed.

"And what of you Craban? You have garnered a look or two from many ellyn as well," he said, with a sly smile. 

"Ai'! 'Tis only due to the Feast approaching. Their interest shall wane once it passes, and I choose none."

He abruptly stopped walking and took her hand, kissing the back of it. "And if the interest of one has been peaked, before the Feast, and does not wane after?" he asked softly. She looked down shyly. "Would you break his heart by not returning his affections?" he continued, kissing her hand once more and watching her eyes.

"T'would depend on who that ellon was..." she voiced softly, eyes dropping to the ground once more. He curled his fingers around her chin and turned her face up towards his.

"Indeed?" he said softly. Their gazes locked upon each other briefly before he dipped his head slowly to capture her lips with his. He drew close enough to her to barely brush against them. Craban's heart began racing and felt as though it would beat out of her chest. His breath was hot against her face and the slight touch of his lips to hers was maddening. She found her hands reaching up, of their own accord, to clasp behind his neck, as she ached to feel his lips upon hers, not knowing why. 

"Legolas...?" She barely was able to whisper, as he pressed his lips against hers, gently at first then more firmly. She felt warmth spreading in her belly that she had never known before, and she grew increasingly dizzy as the kiss deepened. Legolas too, was experiencing new feelings as well, though he had kissed many elle in his long life. He was surprised by this but continued to pursue the kiss deeper. As they finally parted, she was gasping for breath and holding her hand to her chest, and he was gazing at her with deepening blue eyes, also a bit breathless. She cleared her throat nervously and then regained the courage to look up at him. 

"Um...Legolas? Wha...what just happened?" She stammered.

He cupped her face in his hands and said chuckling, "T'was called kissing lirimier."

She rolled her eyes. "Ai'! You silly elf even I know that!" she said pinching his arm playfully. "I mean...you...you kissed me!" 

"Aye. I did. And desire to do so again..." he voiced lowly, taking her lips once more.

This time she nearly melted into the ground. He turned them so that he leaned against a tree for support. She felt her legs give way and he followed her to the ground, slowly sliding down the tree's trunk. As the kiss ended, he drew her across his crossed legs and held her to his chest. She sighed and curled her face deeper into his shoulder, wrapping her arms about his slender waist.

"I believe I am in great peril, I do..." she breathed into his shoulder, not thinking he had heard. He stroked her hair and kissed the crown of her head, smiling silently at her words. They remained in each other's arms for a long while, reveling in their closeness and the sounds of the falling water, until Legolas broke the tranquil mood.

"Lirimier, we should be getting back. Your Adar will be pacing again." She giggled.

"Aye. And if he knew what I...we...have been up to..." she rolled her eyes and he laughed.

"He shall not hear of it from my lips young one," he said softly, kissing her gently. She sat up and gazed into his eyes.

"I really enjoyed this day Legolas. More so than all the others." 

He raised a brow and said, "All the other days past in my company were of no consequence then? Should I have kissed you each day, mayhap?" he asked teasingly.

"Aye, you should have..." she said, kissing him back.

For the next few days their newfound closeness seemed to breathe new life into the young woman. Past troubles seemed to have faded into oblivion and her father's eagle eye of protectiveness seemed to wane whenever they were together. When the day of the Feast finally arrived however, Legolas noted that Craban's mood was slowly becoming introverted as the day grew to a close. She was more reluctant to engage in conversation about anything save small talk. Her playfulness waned and she grew nervous when he took her hand in his, and even so much as brushed a stray hair from her face as they talked. She accepted a kiss or two but kept them short. By the time the evening had arrived, Craban appeared to be a nervous wreck.

He walked her to her talan but held her from going in for a few moments. He drew her close and said, "Lirimier? What has been troubling you? You have been as nervous as a mouse caught in the sight of a snake all the day." 

"Um...'Tis naught. I need to get ready Legolas. I have been thinking of all that I have to do beforehand, as I have not been able to keep my mind on anything else," she lied. He tilted his head and smiled in amusement, knowing full well that she was not being truthful.

"Indeed," he said turning her face up to meet his gaze. "What do you fear? It is quite clear to me that you are frightened of, or by, something." He paused. " Is it me lirimier?" She felt trapped. She damn well was scared. Of him, and the relationship they were forming, and the Feast, and her wreath, and her dress and everything in general. She had never feared anything in her life. The feast made her jumpy as hell. 

"Um..." She looked up at him. Can I ergh...go now Legolas? There is less than two hours before the Feast begins." He allowed her to draw away a bit.

"I shall be awaiting your entrance Craban. And your answer to my question. It shall be a wonderful time. You shall see," and with that he gently kissed her lips, smiled and gracefully made his way to his quarters.

She let out a hoarse gasp and scurried up to her talan. "Nauriel! Oh Valar! Nauriel! I am a sight of insanity, for the sake of Eru!" 

"What is all the fuss child?" said the elder elf, as she was met by a most giddy and nervous mortal. The girl nearly knocked her down, as she ran to embrace her. "By the Valar Craban! Will you calm down?" Craban looked at the Eldar with a glazed look in her eyes. Nauriel knew what caused the mortal to fear so. She was to choose her first lover this night and she was unsure and frightened of several things, the former not withstanding. Firstly, would the one of her choosing accept her crown and secondly, could she go through with the act itself. Thirdly, and there was a third concern...what would happen if her offer was not accepted. It would be humiliating for her.

"Nauriel what am I gong to do. I should not go, 'tis it. I will not attend. Adar does not wish me to attend anyway."

"Shush child. You will most definitely be attending, if I have to drag you there kicking and screaming myself. You pressed your Adar to attend this Feast for two months. You are needed to go and you shall. Besides, there would be a very disappointed ellon there if you did not. He is not one you would wish to disappoint." Craban shot her a 'you-know' look. Nauriel looked at the mortal with amusement. "I am not so old and close to sailing for Valinor not to notice that a certain prince fancies you greatly my dear." Craban rolled her eyes. How many others knew of their close relationship? Ai'! Adar! If he knew...! " Stop squirming Craban or I shall be pinning this to your flesh instead!" cried the assistant, as she struggled to still the young woman, as she fitted her dress.

Haldir was dressed in a most ornate gold embroidered tunic and silver leggings, complete with pale white suede boots. He had a gold and silver lined cloak about his shoulders. When Craban finally emerged from her room, he took in a sharp breath, grasped the edge of the living room chaise, and stared in disbelief at his daughter. By the gods! Was this Craban? She is stunning! This is my daughter? Ai'! No. No, no, no...She is not going. I shall not allow it! Shocking thoughts of ellyn chasing his daughter raced through his mind. Nauriel could almost see what he was thinking. "Quite stunning is she not Haldir? She shall make some ellon quite the object of envy with her choice this eve." Haldir shot her an icy stare.

He'd be damned if any ellon so much as looked in his daughter's direction, let alone approached her to dance. He cleared his throat. "Come my sweet. We do not wish to be late. You do look absolutely gorgeous," he whispered the last sentence and kissed her cheek. She blushed ever so slightly. "Thank you Ada…" she murmured. Her gown was pure white, peppered with pearls in embroidered panels. In her hair, she had strands of glittering diamonds braided into her dark locks. On her head she wore a red crown of roses woven within wisps of baby's breath and ivy. She had a long silver lined white cloak wrapped about her shoulders. The gown clung perfectly to her tall, lithe and muscular frame beautifully, accentuating her exquisite curves. Haldir closed his eyes in agony and took in a deep breath. This was going to be the most difficult and unpleasant night of his ancient life.

When they arrived at the Hall, there were several other elle dressed in white, milling about and waiting for the music to begin. Legolas nearly fell out of his seat when he espied Craban entering the hall on the arm of her father. He had never seen her in a gown before nor took note of her physique. She had always been dressed in tunics and leggings whenever they walked about the city or trained. Valar! He thought, knocking back a half full goblet of wine and reaching for another. They sat directly across the room from the Mirkwood contingent, facilitating a good view of the father and daughter from where the prince was seated.

The Lord and Lady entered, all rose in respect and once they were seated, the music began and the elle and ellyn coming of age began milling about the hall. Craban remained seated and fidgeting, gazing over the throng of bodies gathered on the dance floor. Haldir was scanning the ellyn as they milled about the elle in white. Several approached Craban but were veered away by Haldir's glowering. Celeborn and Galadriel noted in amusement, the young woman's growing frustration with her father's actions. The Lady rose and made her way to their table.

"May I have this dance?" Her voice startled the Marchwarden, as his attention was focused on one ellyn that was eyeing Craban from across the room.

"I...er…" he stuttered, but she extended her hand, winking to Craban as she did so. Haldir reluctantly rose and joined the Lady on the dance floor, casting a cool look at his daughter over his shoulder.

"Haldir, you are suffocating her. The poor thing is the only one not on the dance floor, and you are scaring off potential suitors. Leave her to herself mellon-nîn. This is her night." Haldir just scowled, as the ellyn he had been watching made his way to address Craban. "Haldir? Are you hearing anything I am saying?" He snapped his attention to the Lady.

"Forgive me m'lady. Ah...nay…"

"She giggled. "Leave her be Haldir. Let her enjoy her first solstice. You cannot keep her as a child forever. She is a grown woman mellon."

"She is too young."

"Nay, she is not. She is human. She is of age and just as eligible as an elf of 50 winters." He sighed heavily as he watched Craban dancing with the ellyn in question.

Legolas watched the mortal woman intently over his wine goblet, as she glided effortlessly across the dance floor. He was distracted as an elleth in a colored gown asked him to dance. He obliged and took to being led to the dance floor. As he danced, his eyes kept drifting to the young woman now making her way back to her table. The dance ended and transitioned into another as he led the elleth from the floor. She offered her crown to him as he made his way to the table. Craban watched with interest, as the prince politely took the elleth's hand, kissed the back of it, and put her crown back onto her head.

She bowed slightly and then moved on to find a new companion. He looked up suddenly and caught Craban's eye. He was exquisitely dressed in a richly embroidered dark green and gold outer tunic, with a light weight gold lined, green velvet robe about his shoulders, embroidered in the same fashion. Beneath the outer tunic, he wore a pale green under tunic that peeked out through his slightly opened high collar. He had a gilded gold and silver buckled black leather belt about his slender waist, dark green velvet leggings and black suede boots coming to just below his knees.

She lowered her eyes shyly and nearly choked on the wine she was drinking. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head, as he watched her try to regain her composure. When he looked back over to her, another ellyn had asked her to dance. Again, after the dance was over, she made her way back to her table, instead of following the ellon back to his. As Legolas rose to approach her, Haldir was released from the Lady and was making his way to Craban as well. Legolas smiled and retreated back to his table, but was intercepted by an elleth in a white gown, asking him for this dance. He again obliged.

"May I have this dance hiril-nîn?" Craban looked up into the eyes of Haldir.

"Adar..." she grinned. He smiled taking her hand.

"Are you enjoying yourself iell?"

She muffled a laugh. "Now that you have been away from the table, aye, I have had several dances." He glared softly at her in mock disapproval. "Ai' Ada! Please!" she squeaked with a giggle.

"Forgive me iell, I am having a difficult time letting you go."

"I am not going anywhere Ada. I am just dancing!"

"Aye, but you are needing me less and less and soon you will be on your own. This Feast is the beginning of your flight."

"Ai' Ada I shall always be your iell, no matter. I love you and shall until my last breath. I wish for nothing more than to always reside in Lórien, so I will always be near you." He sighed and took her in a tighter embrace, wishing she were still but a child of eight instead of 18.

The dance transitioned and, as Haldir released Craban from his embrace, a deep voice from behind him called to her. "May I have this dance hiril-nîn, as I have not yet had the pleasure or honor this eve?" Craban blushed, as Haldir reluctantly passed her hand to the prince.

"Rest assured, I shall take good care of her m'lord," said Legolas, as he led her back out onto the dance floor, seeing the reluctance in his eyes.

"That is exactly what I am afraid of!" Haldir quipped dourly, as he returned to his seat. Celeborn was waiting for him with a goblet of wine. Seeing the Lord of Lórien at his table only made his head pound a bit more. Valar, will this eve ever end? He thought to himself, as he sat by Celeborn's side.   
"Really Haldir! You look as though you have kissed an Orc! Will you relax, for Eru's sake!" said the Lord, handing him the goblet. Haldir gladly took the beverage and quickly tossed it back. "Easy Marchwarden, the night is still young."

"Aye. 'Tis the problem."

Celeborn laughed. "I know exactly how you feel mellon, having let go of a daughter once myself. If not for Galadriel, Celebrian would still be locked in her chambers to this day." Haldir smiled weakly at the Lord, as he poured another draught of wine for him. His eyes snapped to the dance floor, hearing familiar laughter, as Craban reacted to something the prince had said to her. Knowing the Marchwarden's thoughts, Celeborn put a hand on his arm.

"Of all whom she could befriend Haldir, be gladdened that she has a great friend in Legolas."

"He takes advantage of her naiveté and youth. She does not know any better."

Celeborn studied Haldir for a moment, a slight frown curling on his lips. "Haldir. You know that not to be true, mellon-nîn. That behavior is not in Legolas's nature and you know it well enough." Haldir nodded in defeat, dropping his gaze to his hands. Celeborn smiled as he noticed that Craban had allowed Legolas to lead her to his table, and was now sitting with him. She still had her crown on her head. Haldir looked up and scanned the dance floor, then the tables, until he found the ones he sought. She was sitting with the prince. Thankfully her crown was still on her head. He let out a long breath and looked back at Celeborn.

"This eve shall be the death of me m'lord. Fear in battle, I have not. Fear of this eve, I have much." Celeborn laughed loudly and clapped the Warden on the back.

Craban was nervously twisting her hands absently in her lap, as she gazed out upon those ellyn who had crowns upon their heads. All of the elle, dressed in white, had given their crowns earlier in the evening and she was the only one still to have hers on. She glanced at Legolas who was conversing with a member of his envoy, and then dropped her gaze. She let out a deep sigh that was loud enough for the prince to hear. He turned and placed his hand on hers.

"What was that for?" he asked, brow raised in amusement.

"Ai'. 'Tis naught. I just...ahh," she threw her hands in the air slightly and mumbled a curse, regarding wraiths or some such, as she reached for the bottle of wine in the center of the table. As she wrapped her long fingers around its neck, her hand was enveloped by a larger, strong one.

"Nay Craban. 'Tis not what you need, lirimier. Enjoy this eve through a clear mind and eyes," said the prince softly, brushing a kiss along her cheek.

"Ai' Legolas..." She shrugged and gazed back out over the dance floor. He studied her for a moment then took her hand. He said nothing, just smiled softly at her and kissed the back of her hand. 

She gazed into his eyes and made her decision right then and there. She slowly rose from her seat and stood in front of the prince silently. He followed her with his eyes, gazing up at her. "Legolas..." She said very softly, as she took the crown from her head and extended it out to the elf. His eyes widened then deepened to a midnight blue, as he stood and bowed slightly, allowing her to place it upon his head. Celeborn thought Haldir was going to choke to death on his wine, as he watched Craban give her crown to the Mirkwood prince. Haldir's eyes narrowed to thin slits, as he regained his composure somewhat, watching Legolas kiss his daughter lightly on the lips.

"Haldir let us retire to the confines of the winery to share in something a bit stronger." Celeborn's voice barely registered in his ears. For a moment, the Lord thought that Haldir was going to slip from his grasp and tear into the crowd, hell bent on ripping the Prince limb from limb. Instead, the Marchwarden sighed in defeat, looking at the great Lord with remorse, and then back up once more to the couple now dancing before him.

"Mayhap we shall partake of more than one m'lord."

**  
- First Love -  
**

Legolas brushed his lips softly along her cheek whispering, "I am greatly honored lirimier and accept your offer gladly. Know that I honor, respect and care for you deeply." 

She smiled saying, "I know you do Legolas and this is why I trust you implicitly. I care for you deeply as well."

He reached down to kiss her softly once more saying, "Now lirimier, the answer to my earlier question...What do you fear?"

She paused then said, "I do not fear you Legolas, only that which I know little about…" she said softly, dropping her gaze shyly. She could feel her cheeks redden as she spoke.

He smiled knowingly and brushed the back of his hand along her cheek saying, "Come, let us dance and revel in the festivities. There will be much time to ponder the future later." She grinned, feeling that a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders, as he led her to the dance floor.

As the night wore on Craban and Legolas danced every remaining dance before the Feast drew to a close. The couple stole out the doors unnoticed, and made their way leisurely towards her tree. The sky was extremely clear this night and they felt the need to gaze at the stars. Craban rolled her eyes as she looked up into the boughs, then down at her gown and cloak in frustration.

"Balls of a wraith!" she hissed to herself, as she struggled to pull the hem of the fitted gown up over her knees, in order to be able to climb. Legolas snorted in laughter as he watched her struggle.

"Such language hiril-nîn!" 

She shot him an icy stare. "'Tis one great reason I do not wear gowns!" she hissed.

"Ah, but you are stunning in them, 'tis evident. I did not realize that you had such grand form..." he said, gazing down along her tall figure to her now bare calves.

"Ai'! You are all alike!" she quipped irately, finally getting the gown and cloak up far enough and began climbing after him. They settled into their familiar crook and leaned back to enjoy the night sky.

"I meant what I said lirimier. You are absolutely stunning this eve," he said, wrapping his arms a bit tighter around her waist. She was blushing furiously and was glad for the darkness.

"Thank you Legolas. Um…You are quite handsome in your finery as well," she whispered. He let out a short breath and turned her to face him. 

"Lirimier..." he breathed softly, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her lips softly. As the kiss deepened he drew her closer to him, snaking one hand behind her neck and the other around the small of her back. She leaned into his chest, curling her hands around his neck, grasping golden locks at the same time. Ending the kiss, they gazed at each other longingly for a moment then rested back and watched the sky for an hour or so.

As the moon began its journey in the night sky, they silently agreed between themselves that it was time to descend their perch and make their way to his quarters. Legolas helped her down and they quietly made their way up the common path to his chambers. He opened the door and allowed Craban to enter first, closing the door softly behind him. He stood in the center of the room watching her, as she walked out onto the balcony and into the silvery moonlight. Iridescent blue highlights shimmered throughout her hair and the slight breeze caused her cloak to billow slightly. She was a magnificent sight to behold and he could hardly believe that she was here with him this eve.

He took off his formal robe and laid it at the foot of the bed, then slowly walked up behind her and wrapped his arms about her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. He felt her tense slightly as a wave of nervousness passed through her; similar to how she was feeling the entire day of the feast. He brushed back the raven tendrils gathered about her neck and softly kissed it.

"'Tis beautiful up here Legolas," she voiced quietly, as he trailed kisses across her shoulders.

"Aye it is. I am most pleased by the quarters given me," he said turning her to face him. She would not look up at him.

"I have never been to these quarters and never knew how magnificent the view of the city was from here," she said softly, still looking down.

He turned her face up to meet his gaze. Still she avoided his eyes. "Lirimier. Look at me, meleth - love." She fought his gaze briefly then resigned to looking into his eyes. He saw fear and felt her shiver, as he held her gaze firmly. "Tell me what you wish lirimier. Do you wish to leave? I do not want you to think you are bound to anything that you would feel discomforting." He lightly kissed her cheek, slowly trailing kisses up to her ear. He felt her pull in a sharp breath as he did so.

"Legolas...I..." she stammered, looking down once more. He curled his fingers around her chin and lifted her face to his again.

"Craban lirimier, we do not have to go further if you do not wish it." 

"Ai' Legolas, 'tis not that, 'tis just...I am..." her voice trailed off, as she struggled for words and to retain her rapidly slipping self control.

"Nervous?" He finished.

She nodded weakly. "Aye and then some. T'would rather fight a Warg presently…" He chuckled as she giggled nervously at her own humor.

"There is no reason to be meleth," he told her, kissing her lips softly and leading her back into the chambers, directing her to a chaise in front of a great stone fireplace. He retrieved two goblets and a bottle from a small table in the center of the room, then made his way back to where she sat.

"Legolas?"

"Aye?" He answered, pouring the contents into the two goblets.

"You have called me 'meleth'."

He smiled to himself, as he finished pouring the two draughts. Turning to her with a goblet in his hand he said, "Aye. I did," he said smiling, as he passed her the goblet. She looked at him quizzically as she took the goblet. He gazed at her intently over the goblet's rim as he sipped, while she swirled her own. She suddenly stopped swirling, looked into the golden goblet briefly, and quickly took a deep quaff of the sweet liquor, swallowed, then rapidly chased it with the rest. Putting her goblet down heavily, she took several deep breaths and held her hand to her chest. A great fire was beginning to spread and burn throughout her throat, chest, and belly.

"Valar! What spirits are these?" she gasped, unable to breathe, looking at the goblet in bewilderment, then to Legolas.

"Sweet Eru, Craban! 'Tis brandy, lirimier! I would never have given you such a large draught if I had known you would chase it!" he sputtered, nearly choking on his own drink.

He hurriedly put his down and moved to her side, comforting her as best he could, as she literally clawed at his tunic in agony and with tears in her eyes. As the burning slowly began to subside, she leaned into his shoulder, trying to steady her breathing. "Ai' elf! You send me to the Halls of Mandos you do!" she breathed. "I thought 'twas wine!"

He laughed, pulling her closer and stroking her hair. "I take it you have never had such spirits, eh?"

"Nay. Never." She finally caught her breath. "Truly, once over the fires, 'tis not a poor drink. Tastes like berries now that I can feel my lips and tongue once more." He chuckled, as she looked up to him with a grin.

"Is there a bit more in your goblet?" He looked at her with surprise and answered, "Aye there is," reaching for his cup.

"I shall do this properly this time..." she said, as she tipped the cup slightly and drank in a small sip.

Before she could lick the sweet nectar from her lips, he said softly, "Nay, lirimier..." putting his fingers over her lips. He then cupped her face in his hands and kissed her lips, drawing his tongue lightly over them, taking in their sweetness.

Parting, she took his hand that had brushed her lips, and kissed the residual sweetness from his fingers. He took the goblet from her hand and then enveloped her in a passionate embrace, kissing her deeply and lowering her to the chaise's cushions. She returned the affection, wrapping her arms about his neck. His tunics were partially open and she drew her hands across the exposed skin lightly. He took in a sharp breath at her touch, leaning up a bit to look into her eyes.

"Love me this night Legolas..." she whispered, as he crushed his lips upon hers, literally drinking in her essence.

He unfastened the clasp holding her cloak about her neck and lifted her slightly from the chaise to draw it away from her. He held her up for a moment, kissing her gently, before taking her hand and causing her to rise. He turned her slowly around, taking in her exquisite form, as the gown clung to her lithe and curvaceous frame perfectly.

"Beautiful," he breathed, as he pulled her close to him, running his hands down her back and sides, as he kissed her feverishly. Finding the fastenings of her gown at her back, his nimble fingers undid each one deftly. She felt the cool air of the night caress her back, as the last clasp was freed and the silky material fell open. Her gown fell slightly around her shoulders. She reached for his face but he grasped her hands and brought them both to his lips, then turned her around so that her back was facing him. He held her by the shoulders and she felt his hot lips press lightly against her bare skin, across her shoulder blades and down to the small of her back, his hands now on either side of her waist. Her knees started to give way as he descended past the middle of her back and he quickly rose and turned her to face him.

He snaked an arm at the back of her knees and his other behind her shoulders, lifted her from the floor and carried her to the bed in the next room. He dipped his head down slowly and kissed her passionately, as he lowered her to the bed's pillows. He slowly climbed by her side, gently stroking her hair and peppering her face and neck with tiny kisses and playful nips at her jaw line. He gently pulled the material down slightly past her collarbone and began planting a passionate trail of kisses across both. She was barely able to breathe, her breaths coming in shallow gasps, as he slid more of the gown's material past her shoulders. After planting butterfly kisses down the center of her chest, he abruptly stopped and looked directly into her eyes.

She rose up to his height and began to draw her hands across his chest, forcing the material of his tunics farther off of his shoulders. She undid the gold and sliver gilded belt at his waist, then she unfastened the last several clasps of both inner and outer tunics, pushing them off of his shoulders slowly. He now sat before her clad only in his dark green velvet leggings and soft black suede boots. He looked down, and began to undo the lacing to his boots, as she watched every movement of his hands. Once he had removed them he lay back down by her side, drawing her into a passionate kiss.

Parting, she propped herself up on her arm and slowly traced her fingers down his bare chest and to the top of his leggings, fingers hovering teasingly over the lacings, then tugging at them gently. He held his breath, now watching her every move. She looked up, devilry in her eyes. "You shall be my undoing lirimier," he murmured, as he drew away the remaining material from her form. She was now clad only in a thin silky shift, open in the back and deeply plunging at the front, teasingly silhouetting all through the opaque material.

He reached down to its hem and slowly drew it off over her head, and took in a long sharp breath between his teeth. "Eru be praised..." he murmured, as she reached for the lacings of his leggings and slowly drew them apart.

Soon there was nothing between them but the cool summer air, as he slowly lowered himself over her, feeling the heat of her body rise up against his own. He slowly kissed her lips and then, after a few moments, rose once more, lying back on his side. She was disappointed at the loss of contact and looked at him quizzically. He just put a finger to his lips and then passed his gaze over the entire length of her figure. He was amazed at the well-developed musculature, and other features, for someone her age, for a woman even. As he passed his long slender fingers over her smooth skin, he felt and saw the underlying muscle quiver under his touch. Running his hands fully over her flesh he was puzzled, as her tanned skin appeared to move one way and the muscle the other, when touched. He flashed a questioning look up at the woman; but she merely smiled.

As he lay back down at her side, she passed a long and lingering glance along his body as well, and was a bit shocked at what she beheld. He noted that her eyes registered both wonder and fear at the same time, seeing that his passion was quite evident. Knowing what she was thinking and feeling, he took her in his arms saying softly, "There is nothing to fear lirimier. I would never hurt you. Ever."

"I know Legolas but I ..." she stammered softly, glancing at his bare physique once more.

"Shh lirimier, look at me, meleth." She did so and he captured her lips in a deep kiss, slowly rolling them over so that she was beneath him. He hovered over her for a moment, caressing her cheeks and running his thumbs over the outline of her lips. He gently placed one of his knees between her thighs and nudged them apart slightly. He heard her gasp softly as he did so, and deepened the kiss further. He lowered himself even more, gently pushing in against her.

As he began to join with her, he felt her stiffen slightly. He looked at her face. Her eyes were filled with a mixture of fear and wonderment. "Please, trust me lirimier. I understand your fear meleth; know that I care for you deeply," he whispered, and began to speak gentle words, as he peppered her face and neck with butterfly kisses. He again slowly pushed within her a bit further until he met with slight resistance. 

She let out another soft gasp, holding onto his shoulders a bit tighter. He stopped his movements and pressed his lips close to her ear. "Hold tightly to me, meleth," he whispered, as he took a deep breath and cradled her face in his hands. With one firm and gentle motion, he pushed deeply into her until he could go no further. He felt her body arch, as a sharp gasp tore from her lips. She was breathing in shallow breaths and had her eyes tightly closed. He remained motionless for long moments and kissed her face and neck soothingly. He stroked her hair and spoke tender words, as she gradually relaxed and her body adjusted to the alien and passionate invasion.

"Legolas..." she breathed softly.

"Aye lirimier. There shall be no more pain, meleth," he whispered kissing her neck and holding her a bit more tightly, as he gently began to move against her very slowly.

As he moved within her, the sharp pain gradually gave way to extremely pleasurable sensations that she had never experienced before in her life. Her body seemed to respond on its own accord, as a light fluttering spread through her belly and she arched upwards to meet his movements. They eventually found their rhythm, as they climbed to their release. Not knowing what exactly it was that she was feeling or what she should expect to feel, save that they were the most exquisite sensations she had ever experienced, she suddenly cried out involuntarily, as a wave of inexplicable pleasure and ecstasy washed over her, forcing the breath from her lungs. Legolas captured her cries in a deep kiss, soon followed by his own, as he reached his own pinnacle of pleasure and release.

She gasped again, as great warmth spread within her, at the place of their joining. "Legolas!" she cried out softly, as she again felt the waves of ecstasy crash over her. He, feeling the same heat, and being totally spent, dropped against her shoulder, moaning softly into her neck and thick raven locks. He slowly ran his hands down her arms and sides, onto her gently curved hips and back up to her shoulders. They lay motionless for many moments. Each reveling in their closeness and the amazing sensations each had experienced in the arms of the other.

As their breathing steadied, Legolas was able to slowly raise his shoulders and gaze down upon the raven-haired beauty beneath him. Her eyes were closed and there was a serene and calm expression on her face. He dropped his head, golden hair draping her shoulders like a curtain, and captured her lips in a very soft and gentle kiss. He brushed his thumbs along the outline of her face and eyes as he did so. Her eyes fluttered open and she pulled him down to her to continue the kiss. Parting, he leaned back up, hands deeply entangled in her thick hair, and smiled down at her with pure love in his eyes. She returned the gaze.

"Are you happy lirimier?" he asked.

"Aye Legolas. I am happy." He smiled softly and rolled slowly onto his side, parting their union. She let out a soft moan, turning towards him as he released from her. He swallowed her moan in a kiss, wrapped her in his arms and held her tightly against his chest. "I have never felt such in my life Legolas." 

He looked down with a smile on his face and chuckled. "Nor should you have until this eve, meleth."

"T'was exquisite and something I shall want more of...with you," she finished, burrowing deeper against his chest.

He pulled away slightly to look at her, his eyes wide with surprise and joy. "I have many weeks yet in Lórien, meleth." He kissed her face. "If this is your wish then you shall have it," he whispered, as he pressed his face into her hair. "'Tis my wish as well lirimier," he breathed.

The next morning the elf awoke to brilliant sunshine pouring through the bedchamber balcony. He blinked and shook the glaze from his eyes, immediately looking down at the young woman lying against him. She was nestled comfortably in his arms still deeply asleep. He gently pulled his arm from behind her head and slowly slipped out from under her. Rising, he leaned down and softly kissed her on the lips and stroked her hair. ''Tis a dream you are here meleth," he whispered, as he donned his robe and walked out onto the balcony. Leaning against the railing he let his mind wander. It certainly has been an incredible few fortnights, he thought to himself, as he glanced back into the bedchamber. He thought over the course of the previous evening and past days, taking account of his growing feelings toward the girl. By Eru...He again looked back at her sleeping form. I am falling in love with her...He let out a breath. She is so young...and mortal…

Craban turned and reached her arms to where the elf had been. Not finding what she sought she opened her eyes reluctantly and blinked in the bright sunlight. "Ai'! I am blind!" she squeaked, pulling a pillow over her head. Legolas was brought from his thoughts by the sound of her voice. He smiled, seeing her burrow under the pillow, and went to harass her a bit more. He started tickling her mercilessly while pinning her arms to her sides, tearing the pillow from her head.

"Legolas! I shall die of laughter! Stop! You pointy-eared pest!" she gasped in throes of laughter, as she tried unsuccessfully to fend off her attacker. He ceased his mirthful torture, captured her hands gently and leaned down slowly, capturing her lips in a sensual kiss that lasted for a long moment. As they parted, Craban gently reached up and took the collar of his robe in her hands, gazing serenely into the elf's eyes. Without warning, she pulled him over herself and to her side, rolling atop him and pinning him to the bed. He looked up at her in shock, as it took a considerable amount of strength to do what she just did.

"Craban?" he asked in amazement.

"Aye elf. 'Tis I," she giggled, kissing him sweetly. "I desire to stay put for awhile longer prince...do you wish to stay and join me, mayhap?"

He smiled wickedly and reached his hands to take her face between them. "Assuredly hiril-nîn, I do…"

Arohtarë awoke with a start, glancing quickly at the Marchwarden. He still slept soundly. By the Valar! What memories! 'Tis almost embarrassing! she thought to herself with a soft chuckle. She repositioned herself gently in his arms and turned to face the lightening sky of the approaching dawn. They would march the entire day and reach the Helm a bit past nightfall. She thought about where her memories had left off just before she awoke. Her guard trials. Legolas was with her the entire time and had put off his departure for another week just to attend. He had given her so much help and had trained her mercilessly until she was able to hit the targets nigh dead center almost each time.

She sighed. What had become of him during all these years? Had he married? Did he have children? She had a fleeting glimpse of him when they had arrived at Lórien but she had left for the borders soon after their arrival, not wanting him to know who she was and to keep her heart from calling to his. It had been well nigh 150 years since she had seen him last. He would have thought her long passed by now. Her heart nearly stopped when she laid eyes upon him, as she aimed her bow at his golden head. She chuckled. Imagine! Her first love, staring down an arrow aimed by his beloved. Thankfully she was hooded and he didn't know who she was, but her heart felt a tug, as a whisper passed between them. She saw the reaction in his eyes as the song reached his heart and his reached hers.

She made her decision to leave for the borders right then and there, saving each from certain heartache. Haldir knew exactly how she was feeling and granted her leave to the northern fences, as soon as she was able to depart. She sighed again. Her love for the Marchwarden was very deep. Deeper than her love for life, but her heart had always held its greatest song for the Mirkwood prince.

She was brought about by Haldir stirring. She smiled softly and kissed his lips gently, as he shook the elvish slumber from his eyes. "'Tis time to move on meleth-nîn. I was waiting for you to waken," she whispered, kissing him once more.

"Aye Arohtarë, I am grateful for your mercy in allowing me a bit more rest." She tilted her head in amusement.

"Say you I am a taskmaster do you?" she chided, as she rose chuckling.

"By the Valar, I do melethril! Where did you come upon such practices?" 

She paused then turned to face him. "From my Adar meleth…"

He threw her a comical glance then chuckled himself.

"I would never have guessed…" he quipped, as he took her hand and they mustered the troops to fall back in. The last leg of their journey was at hand.

The night was deepening and an unnatural blackness covered the sky the closer they moved to the Helm. Lightening could be seen flashing in the eastern skies as the elven army continued their silent march to the great fortress. They still had hours to go, even though the valley was in view. She let her mind wander and continue her thoughts to the days after she had passed her guard trials.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer...which essentially means nothing... I own none of that which is Tolkien's. Only my original characters and the various scenes and timelines I have developed.

Text that is in italics are flashbacks.

Text that is in bold italics is conversation taking place in the minds of characters speaking with each other.

_As his day of departure loomed, Craban tried very hard to keep from showing how badly his pending departure was affecting her. Legolas spent most of the day, two fortnights after the feast, packing and preparing so that he could spend the entire next day with Craban. He was feeling as miserable as she was, but also masked it. It would be difficult enough just to get through this next day, let alone the day he was to leave. The only solstice was that Haldir had kept his promise. Now that she was a Guard, Craban was to accompany him, Haldir and their guard in escort, to Mirkwood._

The last day of his stay in Lórien was bittersweet. They spent much of the day at the pool and wandering the woods, far from the city. Soft words were spoken, tears were shed and much love was made that night. As they lay together on a chaise on his balcony in the pale moonlight, Legolas whispered in her ear, "I love you lirimier, I love you deeply. I cannot say what will become of us in the years ahead, or what fate has in store, but I just wanted you to know my true feelings for you."

Craban turned to face the elf. "And I love you deeply as well my prince. I have been dreading this day since first I met you. 'Tis causing more pain than all I went through the past days," she said, kissing his lips. "Would our relationship be looked upon as something forbidden Legolas? I mean, I am mortal."

He looked at her with surprise. "Love is never wrong meleth, no matter the race. Remember that. No matter what is said, or by whom, their opinions mean nothing. Though there are hardships to be faced between our kinds, they can be dealt with, somehow. Should our time together ever be blessed by the Valar, we shall face all together. No man nor elf, nor earthly force shall tear it from us. I promise you." As he spoke, she turned into his shoulder and let the tears flow. His own fell into her obsidian locks, as they held each other in desperation, both dreading the coming dawn.

The next morning, the couple silently made their way to the stables to gather their mounts. Haldir felt his daughter's pain and sadness from as far distant as a furlong, his heart nearly breaking to see her in such a state. She was holding up well in the eyes of those around her but to him she was barely functioning. As they made their way up the path to meet Haldir, he reached out for her and drew her close.

"Are you sure you wish to make this journey iell?" he whispered.

"Aye Ada, I am."

Haldir smiled sadly, admiring her strength. As the gates swung open, Haldir and his senior wardens lead the contingent, Craban directly behind the Mirkwood party and as close to the prince as she could ride while remaining in her unit. When the guards shifted riding positions the first time, she requested of her commander the position beside the prince. Knowing the relationship she and the prince had, he allowed it. She was able to remain in this position for the duration of the trip.

Legolas was ecstatic to see her pull up next to him after hours of riding. The guards rode three deep on either side, with the prince being in the deepest part of the group. Craban rode the third horse in, closest to the prince on his left. They resisted the urge to hold hands as she was now in a military formation and it would not be prudent, or allowed. Haldir glanced back and was pleased to see that his daughter had secured the position he knew she would have wanted. Now that she was part of the Galadhrim, Haldir had to instruct her commander of her hidden talents and swore him to secrecy of them. No matter what he was to see or hear, he was to say nothing, under penalty of his personal wrath. If there was any possibility of coming across danger, Warg riders would be the worst. She was the only one among them that could single handedly take one down with something other than a bow. She was to be allowed to ride freely among the columns if she felt there was so much as the hint of danger, as her senses were slightly above those of the elves.

The first 10 days of the journey passed uneventfully. The 11th day found Craban very uneasy and Haldir noted her alert posturing. Legolas also felt her uneasiness and questioned her on it. She shrugged his question off saying that it was just the length the journey so far. He knew she was not telling all but let it rest for the time being. That evening, as they struck camp, Craban left the fire circle quietly and unseen, save by one. She slipped out of the safety of the camp and into the darkness. Legolas did not miss this fact but could not follow. His guards would not allow it. Instead he went to Haldir.

"Craban leaves the camp m'lord, and without her horse," he whispered to the Marchwarden. 

Haldir didn't flinch, knowing full well that she had sensed something that was far out of their range. "Steady your heart Legolas. She is well able to care for herself."

Legolas was taken greatly by surprise by his words, seeing that he was so protective of his daughter. "M'lord, there are Wargs out there and more than likely Orcs by the dozens."

"Aye, Legolas, I am sure."

"If I have to knock my guards senseless, Marchwarden, I am going after her," he said firmly, moving to rise.

Haldir's strong hand clamped around the younger elf's arm like an iron vice, as he glared coolly at the prince. "You shall do nothing of the sort and you shall stay put, if I have to guard you myself."

Legolas glared at him. "I do not understand. Is this yet another cruel trial that she must endure?"

"Nay Legolas, Not a trial. She will be well. Trust in my words. She will return presently. In the meanwhile, you shall stay in my charge." Legolas was wholly bewildered but did as he was bade. Here was an overprotective father, fiercely fending off Ellyn at dances and feasts, but allowing his daughter to wander into the midst of Warg packs. He sighed heavily. Haldir was his superior right now and he could do naught but to obey.

Later in the eve, when all but Haldir and Legolas were bedded down for the night, great tortured shrieks were heard in the distance. The guards on watch gathered nervously, peering hopelessly into the darkness, but saw nothing. Legolas jumped to his feet, instinctively wanting to bound into the darkness after the sounds. "Sit prince," came Haldir's firm voice. Legolas looked down irritably at the Marchwarden, who was calmly fletching an arrow. He sighed and returned to his seat. Haldir gave him a short glance and continued his task. Several hours before dawn, Craban crept noiselessly back into camp.

She was extremely weary, covered in blood, and wanted nothing more than to retire to her tent and sleep as long as she could. Legolas, who had been sitting by the fire, situated so that he could watch the direction she had left the camp, jumped up at seeing a dark figure hurry to one of the tents. Haldir did not try to stop him from going after her. He smiled to himself and continued his arrow making.

Entering her tent, she removed her bloodstained cloak and draped it at the foot of her bedroll. That would need a good washing. She looked down at her tunic and sighed. It was soaked with Warg and Orc blood as well. Well, at least she had a second one to change into and no one would be the wiser. As she was about to remove her tunic she heard someone approach and froze in mid-task.

"Craban?" came a low whisper. Legolas! She hurriedly grabbed her bloody cloak, removed her outer tunic and stuffed both in her pack. Quickly she donned her clean outer tunic and sat on her cot facing the door of the tent. Legolas heard hurried movement from within and called out again.

"Craban, may I enter?"

Silence then, "Tolo Legolas - Come Legolas."

He ducked into the tent and saw her sitting calmly, going through her quiver harness. 

"Maer dû, meleth - Good evening love. What brings you here so late at night?"

"Why did you leave the camp meleth? 'Tis too dangerous to do such foolish things!" he nearly hissed at her. She could see the fear in his eyes and this kept her from getting angry.

"I desired air Legolas. I am accustomed to walking at night. You know of this habit." 

"Aye, I do, but we are not now in Lórien!" he spat, reaching for her and taking her in a tight embrace. She relented and allowed him to be angry with her.

"Forgive me Legolas. I shall not do so again."

"Aye you are correct in saying such. I shall not lose you to the wilds of Middle Earth meleth. As I am still hoping we shall live life together someday," he said kissing her passionately.

The next morning found the party on its way and almost half way to the southern borders of Mirkwood. They were now fully out of the realm of the golden wood and in the plains of Ithilien, and the presence of the dark lord. After an hour or so of riding, several large objects were spotted in the distance up ahead. Haldir stopped the party and sent several scouts to investigate. As they rode off, Craban rode up beside her father. Legolas noted the silent glances traded between the two and a smile cross Haldir's face. She fell back to her usual position next to Legolas and remained silent. After a time, the scouts returned and Legolas could make out some of their conversation. The objects were four dead Wargs and their riders. 

"...all their throats were splayed open...

"…butchery as I have never seen..."

"…mayhap, a great fell beast whose work it was..." was all he could make of the conversation, but it was enough. He glanced at Craban who just looked calmly ahead, as if trying to hear the conversation herself. Haldir turned and caught her eye, she nodding back at him. He nodded his silent answer and moved the contingent forward once more. As the group slowly approached the dead beasts, gasps went up throughout the party. The throats of the fell beasts were indeed torn open and the bodies of the Orcs were split nearly down their centers.

"By the Valar!" exclaimed several of the unit commanders, her own looking in disbelief at the mortal woman. She continued to look straight ahead, not acknowledging any glances, save her father's. Legolas was astounded at the damage done to the creatures, unable to even conceive in his mind what could have possibly attacked them. Nothing like it had ever been seen. He made a mental note to speak with Haldir this eve. He knew the Marchwarden knew something he was not sharing.

As they struck camp, Craban made her way to a small pond with her pack. Legolas had gone to speak with her father, so she took advantage of this time to wash her cloak and tunic. Legolas had been keeping an eye on her like an eagle since she left camp that night and, honestly, he was just as bad as her father...She giggled as she began the task of scrubbing her clothing.

"Doing laundry meleth?" She nearly fell into the pond, so intent was she on her task that she failed to notice his approach.

"Hmm, failing to remain aware of one's surroundings...calls for some of those medals to be rescinded would you not say?" he quipped as she clutched her chest. She was so startled that she was unable to grab the bloodstained cloak before it was seen by him.

"And what is this meleth?" he said, eyes widening, as the realization of what the substance staining it was, dawned upon him. "Craban! 'Tis blood! Sweet Eru!" He looked at her sharply, nearly dragging her to her feet, looking her over, searching for evidence of some ghastly wound.

"Worry not elf! 'Tis not my blood! By the Valar! Will you let me go? You stretch my arm a league, for the love of Arda!" He let her go, realizing he was indeed holding on tightly.

"What has happened Craban? First, your Adar will not speak with me, regarding the dead beasts we saw on the trail this day, and now I find you washing great amounts of blood from your clothing!" She looked at the ground, scuffing at the dirt.

"'Tis something I cannot speak of Legolas. You should not have seen such. Please forgive me for being unable to be free of tongue." she voiced softly, as he turned her face up to his.

"'Tis of a military nature meleth?" he asked quietly.

"Aye meleth and I am sworn to silence over it." She blocked her mind from his thoughts so that he could not see that it was not the whole truth. Yet she didn't lie either. Sort of not, anyway. It was a military secret of sorts between her Adar, her uncles and now her unit commander.

"Then I shall not question you on it henceforth, Craban. Secrecy of that nature I can understand."

She felt a twinge in her belly as he said those words, knowing full well that all was not the total truth. Damn her gifts.

"Thank you meleth. 'Tis difficult for me to keep things from you and pains me greatly," she voiced quietly.

"Mayhap the day may come when you will no longer need to do so meleth. I trust in you to know this shall come to pass."

"I love you Legolas and only hope that our days together shall come to pass." He held her close, kissing her neck and shoulder then her lips. "I shall not be long here meleth. I will join you presently." He nodded, giving her one last kiss. As he walked away she breathed a sigh of relief but was overcome by great sadness. Only three more days before they reached the city. She prayed to Eru that she would have the strength to get through their final parting.

Arrival at Mirkwood

Dinner that night consisted of lambas and water but some of the unit commanders had spiced wine with them. Haldir allowed one draught per, seeing that they were so close to Mirkwood. The common ranks were not allowed to imbibe. This included Craban, which was just fine with her. She was in no mood to celebrate the ending of this journey. She sat alone by the fire, pondering the coming days and the return trip to Lórien, when someone sat by her side.

"Meleth? Are you well?" She looked up at the prince, tears hanging in her emerald eyes.

"Nay, Legolas, I am not well." she said softly. He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. 

"Istan Craban, meleth-nîn. Istan - I know Craban, my love, I know. We shall meet again, I know we shall. In the meanwhile, let us just revel in the time we do have left together." He kissed her cheek, took her hand and led her to his quarters.

They spent the last two nights on the trail in each other's arms, thoughts of the past four months swirling through their minds. How quickly the time past. Legolas looked at Craban as she slept against his shoulder and wondered if his words would ever ring true. The Valar could not be that cruel, he thought, as he tightened his embrace around the girl. "Please, if you grant me nothing else in my life mighty Valar, give me this woman as my wife," he prayed silently, as he unfocused his eyes and fell into a fitful slumber.

The next morning found the contingent a league out of the fair city of Mirkwood. Haldir relinquished command to the Mirkwood guard and they all entered the great gates to cheers. Legolas glanced over at Craban who had her head bowed.

"Meleth," he whispered to her. She looked up, meeting his gaze. He smiled at her sweetly causing her to break out in a smile herself. He nodded and looked ahead, espying his father on the stairs of the palace. She followed his gaze and saw a magnificent elf towering over the crowd. Legolas watched her eyes widen at the sight of him. "That is my Adar Craban."

She looked at the prince in awe. "Now I know where you get your great beauty meleth!" she giggled, he laughing with her.

"Nay, 'tis said it was from my Naneth."

"No matter, you are beautiful where ever its origins." They dismounted and he brushed a kiss over her lips before he went to greet his father. Haldir came to her side and put his arm about her shoulder.

"How do you fare, iell?" She gazed up into his eyes, the pain and heartache wholly evident. "I wish things could be different iell, but 'tis not to be at this time. Mayhap, in time we shall make a return trip."

"I pray so Ada. I truly pray it to be so." He pulled her close and kissed the crown of her head.

The Lórien contingent spent several days in Mirkwood before readying to return to the golden wood. The last night of her stay, Legolas brought her to formally meet his father and to present her with a gift. Thranduil was enthralled with the girl and mesmerized by her eyes.

"A pleasure to meet you Craban, hiril-nîn. Legolas had spoken much about you."

She blushed slightly and looked down saying, "A pleasure as well your majesty."

"I understand you are newly ranked a Lórien guard?" She nodded.

"Quite an accomplishment my dear. Your Adar must be very proud."

"Aye, m'lord, he is."

"He has trained you well it seems."

"Aye, he and Legolas both."

Thranduil raised his brow, gazing at his son in amusement. It was then that he noted the look in his son's eyes as Legolas gazed at Craban. They love each other. Thought the king, as he watched the two of them chat between themselves. By the Valar! He has given his heart to a mortal! His thoughts were interrupted just then, as an emissary to the king entered and Thranduil took his leave.

"Come meleth, I have something I wish to show you," said Legolas, taking her hand and leading her from the royal Hall. They walked for what seemed like ages, down stone halls and around corners, before they came to a greatly ornate wooden door. "These are my chambers Craban," he said, kissing her softly before opening the great oak door.

Craban stepped in and gasped. The rooms were gorgeous, done in greens and gold. He chuckled seeing her reaction. Her eyes drifted over to the great mantel and fireplace, to the great balcony doors, and finally to the great canopied bed next to the balcony and in front of a great bay window. Legolas followed her gaze then took her hands. "Aye Craban, you shall sleep here this eve," he whispered, taking her into a passionate embrace and kiss. Parting slowly, he brushed back the hair from her face and led her to a chaise by the fireplace. "I wish to show you something, meleth," he said, as he walked over to his dresser, opened a drawer, and plucked a gilded box from within. He came and sat by her side, cradling the box in his hands for a few moments, gazing at it in silence. "This is very special to me meleth, as it was my mother's," he said softly, as he handed her the box.

She looked first at Legolas, then to the box, reluctant to take it. He reached for her hand and placed it in her upturned palm. She gazed at it again, then back at Legolas. "Open it meleth," he urged. Slowly she undid the tiny gold latch and opened the gilded cover. She took in a sharp breath as she gazed at its contents. Legolas grinned widely at her reaction. Nestled within, on a velvet cushion, was a Mithril necklace with a jewel-encrusted pendant attached. The pendant was in the shape of the royal crest of Mirkwood, encrusted with emeralds, rubies and yellow peridot, with a small emerald encrusted leaf at its center.

"'Tis your mother's? Legolas, I cannot accept this meleth-nîn." 

"Aye, 'tis, and yes you will. I want you to have it. Twill remind you of me and our time together. I know it shall find its way back to me someday." He saw the tears welling up in her eyes and drew her to him. "Do not cry meleth-nîn. 'Tis difficult enough without tears," he said, fighting back his own. After a moment he said, "Here, allow me," as he reached into the box and drew out the jeweled piece. Drawing back her hair from around her shoulders, he clasped the necklace and dropped her hair back. "Let me see, meleth," he said, turning her to face him. "Beautiful. You wear it well lirimier."

I will never take it from my neck Legolas. Never."

"I have no doubt," he said with a chuckle.

"I have something for you as well, Legolas." He blinked in surprise, as she reached around her neck and under her tunic, pulling out a gold chain and pendant. It was the symbol of her house, encrusted with diamonds and emeralds in its center, and was in the shape of a golden mallorn leaf. "Adar gave this to me when I came to him as a babe. I have never taken it from my neck since the day he put it round me, save to lengthen the chain. I give it to you now, meleth and pray that, it too, shall return to me one day."

Legolas had seen it many times, and truly she never took it off. It meant as much to her as the necklace he had just given her, meant to him. She pulled back his golden braids and tendrils, reached around his neck and clasped it. She drew back his hair around his shoulders and sat back to admire how it lay against his slightly tanned skin. He held it in his hands, gazing at the fine detail and glittering jewels. "I too shall never remove it meleth. Ever." They kissed and held each other for a very long time before falling into the arms of passion.

**  
- Departing for Lórien -  
**

The next day, the Lórien contingent was to leave. As they were just about to mount their horses, Haldir stepped in front of Craban and Legolas, as they were saying their final good bys. Thranduil was also present to see them off. "Iell-nîn, I have something I wish to give to you in honor of your becoming a guard." He reached into his saddlebag and drew out a large leather wrapped bundle. He held it in his hands, motioning for her to unwrap it, which she did. She took in a loud breath and leaned back, enough that Legolas was afraid she would fall backwards without him holding her up. In the center of the bundle were two perfectly matched daggers. "They are two of a kind Craban, and none other in all of Middle Earth iell-nîn. It has taken the smiths an entire turn of the sun to fashion these."

The hilts were made of gleaming white ivory, gilded with gold embossed leaf and vine designs twining around them, and had the symbol of Haldir's house enameled on the butt plates. They were sheathed in crimson scabbards made of thick leather, embossed with gold threading, and had mallorn wood inserts with gold lockets encircling their mouths. Both blades were at least 16 inches in length and, including the hilts, measured 24 inches total.

"Adar...they are beautiful..." she barely whispered, as she threw her arms around her father's neck, kissing his face, he taking her in a warm embrace. She reached for one with a shaking hand. She took it from its sheath and found that there was elvish writing etched on both sides of the blade a blade of a sword I am forged in flame. Your glory, I ride for thee. Your power, it rides with me. Your servant, I am and ever shall I be.

"Neither I nor your uncles will be taking these away from you, iell-nîn." He said chuckling.

She giggled, remembering all the times that the three brothers would struggle to take weapons from her when she was very young. She took the other out of its sheath and held both in each hand, feeling their heft and balance. She slowly spun them, getting the feel of how they moved in her hands. She spun them faster and several guards standing near her cautiously moved farther away. Legolas watched her work both blades with admiration, as he had not seen her use such weapons in this fashion.

"You did not tell me that you were so skilled meleth," he whispered in her ear.

She giggled. "Must I tell you everything, prince?" 

"Aye."

"Aright...Dear Legolas, I work the long knives and have since the age of seven."

"Truly?" 

"Aye, Legolas, truly. She has caused my brothers and I to age a millennia in her 18 years with us. She nearly impaled Lord Celeborn with a set of these one day, while running from Rumil," quipped Haldir with a grin. Legolas looked to her with a raised brow. She gave him an indignant look and smiled wickedly.

"Well then, let me put them in your harness lirimier, in the fashion that I wear mine," said Legolas, taking the scabbards and lashing them to the back of her harness, just behind her head.

"There. Now, reach back and see if they are in the proper position." 

She did so, spinning both effortlessly over her shoulders and then deftly back into their sheaths.

"Impressive," quipped the prince, kissing her cheek.

"Come, iell. The day is drawing out and we must be on our way," said the Marchwarden softly, gently putting his hand on the small of Craban's back and nudging her to her horse.

"I shall miss you terribly Legolas. Promise you shall not forget me?"

He looked at her incredulously.

"Never, meleth! I could never forget you or what we have shared. We shall be together again, meleth. Though I do not know the when, I know it to be true. I shall miss you as well."

He kissed her passionately then said, "Go meleth. 'Tis best to leave now while you are able, before I chance to steal you from your father's arms forever," he whispered and glanced quickly at Haldir.

"Twould be cause for a war, I would think..." she giggled through her tears. He brushed them away with his thumbs and led her to her mount. 

"Be well Craban. Always, fight hard and stand strong. Never give up meleth, on anything. Especially us. I love you dearly." 

She nodded and quickly turned her mount away from the prince, so he would not see the great stream of tears flowing down her face. 

**  
- Journey of Sorrow -  
**

She rode beside Haldir, and as they made their way through the gates of Mirkwood, she looked back, hand to her chest, feeling the necklace under her tunic. Legolas was standing on the steps of the palace with his father, gazing after them. As they moved deeper into the woods, she looked back again and barely made out the prince's tall slender figure just turning to go within the great gates of Mirkwood. He had moved to without the gates to catch the last glimpse of their contingent before they rode out of sight. She watched as he put his hand to his chest, feeling the pendant beneath.

Needless to say, the return trip was quite melancholy and mostly silent on the part of Craban. She rarely spoke and went about her duties quietly. On several occasions she left the confines of the camp to scout suspicious sounds and smells that wafted through the night air, but all in all, the journey home was uneventful. Haldir grew more and more concerned for her well being, as he watched her slowly sink into the darkness of despair, the closer they got to Lórien.

"Craban, please, sit with me, iell-nîn," he called to her one evening, as the camp finished dinner.

She had just re-entered camp from a recon of the surrounding area, when he chanced to catch her eye.

"Aye, Ada?" she asked wearily, walking towards him and sitting by his side. He put his arms around her and took her in a strong embrace.

"Child, you are fading before my eyes, young one," he said quietly, stroking her hair.

"It pains greatly me to be apart from him, Ada. I do not mean to cause you worry."

"Of all things iell, Legolas would not want to hear of your death over parting from him. Think of what effect it will have on his well being, iell. You will break his heart and then two parents will have lost their greatest joy," he said, looking down at the paling young woman.

"Trust in fate Craban. The Valar have been known to show great compassion down through the ages, and if you are to be together then you shall be. 'Tis out of both of your hands, iell, and only time will tell the outcome." He smiled down at her.

"I will try to heed your words, Ada, though it still pains my heart."

"Aye, it will for a while longer. But this will ease with time."

He chuckled slightly at a thought. She looked at him quizzically.

"You shall be so busy as a member of the Guard that you will have little time for remorse and despair. Or even for your own Adar!" he laughed.

"How so?"

"I am the one to write up your duty roster, iell-nîn. I shall keep you quite entertained for many moons to come!"

"You would not do such!"

"Aye I would, and shall. You have greater responsibilities now, Craban, and more training ahead of you. There is still a Warden's position in your future, my sweet, and there will be little time for romance and other dalliances on your way to claim that position."

She rolled her eyes and laughed.

They arrived at Lórien the next morning and both father and daughter made their way wearily to their talan.

"Ai'! A bed! Valar, does my body ache!" she groaned, falling to the pillows. Haldir laughed.

"You are so young yet, iell, to feel so. I am much older and am feeling fine."

He ducked as a well-aimed pillow sailed over his head.

"You are slowing down, my sweet. Good aim, but much too slow."

He dodged as another came careening by the side of his head. He chuckled as she reached out from the bed with one hand and closed the door to her room loudly, groaning all the while.

As the days turned to months, Legolas and Craban traded correspondence, when their duties allowed. Haldir was true to his word, placing much upon her young shoulders. Her orders took her further and further from the center of the city now, and placed her near the northern borders. Her unit made up the bulk of the patrols on this season's rotation, so she was away from home for nearly three months at a time. Whenever she finally came out of her rotations, she promptly sat and wrote to Legolas, as soon as she reached her talan, telling of her latest adventures and explaining why it had taken so long to write. It took a month for their letters to reach each other and, when one or the other was away, they might not get word from one another for several months at a time.

**  
- For Duty and Honor -  
**

Craban had been on extended three-month rotations with one month off, for almost a year since her return from Mirkwood. After one such rotation, almost four years later, Legolas received a letter one day, not from Craban, but from Haldir, telling of Craban's grave injuries from a brutal Orc attack. Her unit was hit hard and they had lost over a dozen guardians. Haldir did not elaborate about how she came upon her injuries, but stated that she was highly decorated, as a result of her efforts to save her comrades and keep the death toll to a minimum. He found it difficult to decide if writing to the prince about such poor news would be wise, knowing that he would have his own duties and hardships to focus upon. But, knowing that his daughter could succumb to her injuries at any time, he felt the prince would need to know, should such doom befall her. He sent the letter with a heavy heart.

The prince was beside himself with worry, but unable to do much to remedy the situation. The letter had been brought to him in the field, where they were in the midst of battling Orc bands and the latest spider attacks. He prayed she would recover and sent off a hurried letter to her father, stating that he would try to make a trip to Lórien in the spring if he could, and to please keep him informed of her condition. When Haldir read his letter he smiled and promptly wrote back, that she had improved greatly since his last letter to the prince. He told him that she would most likely be out of action for another month or so before being allowed to rejoin her unit at the borders. One thing he did not mention was the fact that Craban was now known as Arohtarë - Revered Warrior, in honor of her actions on the field of battle. He did not know exactly why he kept this from the prince but felt that it was for the better.

Legolas opened this last letter with great worry on his mind, but was quickly relieved to read that she was doing well. By the Valar, he missed her and would give an arm to see her again. However, fate would not allow such dalliances, as he was constantly called to lead Mirkwood's army to battle, as more and more bands of Orcs were infiltrating the southern borders of the Northern realm. Soon his people would not be able to remain where they were and Thranduil would eventually move the palace and city further north. This was the last letter that would be received by either of the two, due to the pending darkness that was beginning to loom over the horizon. Though fate had turned them in opposite directions, their hearts never forgot one another. He didn't know it then but many, many years would pass before they would come to meet each other again. 

**  
- The Helm -  
**

"Thank the Valar Haldir, it appears that we have made it just in time," Arohtarë said, eyeing the swiftly advancing orc army with concern.

"Aye, meleth, so it does." He looked at her with sadness in his gray-green eyes.

She met his gaze briefly, and then turned to stare in awe at the vastness of the great fortress looming before them, men scurrying to and fro about the battlements high above. 

She turned to the great elven army behind her and commanded, "Sound the horn!"

An elven soldier raised the ancient horn of the Galadhrim to his lips, and sounded a deep and haunting note. She turned back to Haldir, who took her hand in his gloved one and brought it to his lips. "So it begins meleth-nîn, beneth-nîn - my love, my wife," he voiced softly. She smiled and covered his hand with hers, turning back towards the citadel, and waited.

"That is no orc horn!" Cried Legolas from within the great hall, as he bolted for the huge wooden doors barring the entrance of the Helm. Théoden King, Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas stood in awe and bewilderment as a very large elven army, close to 2,000 troops, marched through the ancient doors and into the great hall of the Hornburg.

"How is this possible?" Murmured the King.

As Haldir and Arohtarë stepped out of the ranks, Aragorn rushed forward and took Haldir into a warm embrace saying, "Mae Govannen Haldir, you are most welcome."

The Marchwarden returned the embrace and then shook Aragorn's arm firmly. Turning to Arohtarë, Aragorn did the same.

"Arohtarë, you honor us with your presence. It has been a long time since we have stood together for such cause. You too, are most welcome."

She smiled softly at the ranger, holding his arm in a warrior's grasp, the deepness of their friendship reflected in each other's eyes.

"If only we could stand together and face peace brother, I would care for that more."

"Aye m'lady. Would it only be so," he said with a weary sigh.

Legolas stood in wonderment at the army before him, and with even more bewilderment of the tall dark haired woman at the Marchwarden's side. He had briefly seen her several times when they had rested in Lothloríen, after their escape from Moria. She had kept a distance from their group and remained silent, each time they and Haldir would meet, but she had been observing all and everyone with the skilled eye of a sentinel, for some of the time they were there. Standing before him now, she was dressed exactly as Haldir, in full battle armor, and a great crimson cloak about her shoulders, indicating the status of her Captain's rank. He was close enough to her to take in every detail of her form without outwardly staring.

She stood slightly taller than six feet in height and, though dressed in full armor, he could discern that she was very strong, gracefully muscled and lithe of frame. Her thick and slightly wavy hair fell nearly to the back of her knees, and was the deepest of raven-black. It was braided in the fashion of elvish warriors of high status; two long braids draped each side of her face and a long thick one trailing down behind her. Her eyes were the greenest he had ever seen and she looked to be in her early to mid 20s. Though youthful as she appeared, her bearing indicated otherwise. There was an air of maturity, wisdom, and knowing far beyond her apparent years. He blinked as a thought crossed his mind. Those eyes…the hair…her stature…there was a familiarity about her features that he could not put his mind around. 

He studied her weaponry, that which was visible to him. She carried a great long sword at her side, similar to Haldir's, and a beautiful golden Lórien long bow at her back, inscribed with insignia indicating that she too was a Marchwarden. Along with these weapons, she also carried two identical long knives that had gold embossed ivory hilts, secured in her quiver harness, to the right and left sides of her head, with a crimson quiver full of Lórien's golden fletched arrows on its right. Those knives? Where had he seen such? She was absolutely stunning, not to mention formidable, to look upon. He smiled, quite pleased that she was on their side.

Arohtarë paused in her conversation with the others, and suddenly looked up and over at Legolas, sensing that the young elf had been gazing at her sice they had entered the Helm. He had changed little from when she had first met him long ago; save his hair was a bit longer. Her heart started to beat a bit faster and she heard a faint but familiar call begin to bubble from its depths. No. You must be still. She momentarily closed her eyes and fought it back into its recesses as she opened her eyes and gazed at him. His breath caught in his throat, as she locked her calm gaze upon him, taking him quite off guard, a most unusual circumstance for him to be in. He customarily would stand slightly away from a crowd, and right this instant, he was feeling quite exposed under her calm but steely gaze.

He stiffened slightly, as she broke away from the group and made her way slowly towards him. He suddenly felt his heart jump and skip a beat, as an ancient but familiar song began to pour forth. He put his hand to his chest and took in a sharp breath, trying to still its flutter. _What in Arda?… _

"Mae Govannen, Legolas Thranduilion - Greetings Legolas, son of Thranduil. I seem to have captured your attention, have I not?" she said bemused, and in a husky voice. Legolas felt heat creep up his neck to his ears, feeling a bit embarrassed to have unintentionally attracted this woman's attention. No one seemed to notice their exchange, however. 

"Forgive me m'lady. I did not mean to cause you discomfort."

"You did nothing of the sort young prince. At present, I was tiring of the long winded introductions that are transpiring." She nodded her head slightly, with a chuckle, towards the three conversing at the king's table.

Legolas followed her gaze then smiled silently and looked down, totally disarmed by the imposing woman standing before him.

"We have not been formally introduced this eve, though I know well of you. I am Arohtarë o Lórien - Arohtarë of Lórien," she said offering her hand to the elf. He took it, kissing the back of it in the customary fashion then gave his name.

"I am Legolas of Mirkwood. A pleasure to finally make your formal acquaintance m'lady, though I had seen you briefly while in Lórien, ere two moons ago."

"Ah, but we had met long before then mellon-nîn, though you might not remember me from that time. I was quite young."

Looking into her eyes, he saw that they reflected a familiarity and knowledge towards him, well past that of friendship and a depth of knowing far beyond her apparent age. His heart began to jump once again and he fought to hold his composure. He raised a brow quizzically, now studying her features, especially her eyes, but there was no time for further niceties.

"I must go my friend," she said, quickly noting that the trio was walking towards them.

"Fight hard and stand strong, mellon-nîn, for our very existence depends upon this night. Though I cannot promise that we shall meet again, once this eve has past, know that I have great respect for you and your contributions to the cause at hand. Be well mellon," she said, grasping Legolas's arm.

Before he released her he said, "You shall stand and fight with us m'lady?" the greatest concern in his voice.

She locked her gaze with his, green eyes flaming, not with anger, but with the beginnings of the blood lust of battle rising within.

"But of course mellon, 'tis my place. Tis what I do young Eldar. These…" she nodded to the elven army before her, "…are my people. I live amongst them, I stand and fight with them, and so shall I lay down in death with them, if so called. Fear not for me young prince. Keep your mind clear and focused on the battle to come, and your friends. Our fates shall be what they will. Pray hard for victory, mellon and may you live long and find peace," she said, leaning towards him, kissing him softly on his cheek, quickly turning away, and heading back to the head of the elven ranks.

Haldir spoke to her for a few moments before they stepped into the ranks. "Sulime!" She barked, and led the contingent out to their assigned battlements, Haldir by her side.

Théoden watched the contingent make their way to the battlement of the Deepening Wall and motioned for Aragorn to come forward.

"Aye Théoden King?" 

"A woman commands this battalion?"

"Aye, as does Haldir. "

"'Tis unheard of…"

"Nay king, the elven realms have many female warriors. You would be hard pressed to find elvish brigades and regiments without half being of the fairer sex."

Théoden studied the ranger's face a moment. Aragorn watched the king's expression change from bewilderment to realization, as he glanced up the stairway and overhead, as the army marched out of the inner Hornburg wall to take their positions.

"There are women in their ranks!" he exclaimed, leaning heavily on the great oak table.

"Aye, Théoden. And a good many."

Seeing the look of shock, mingled with anger cross the king's face, he continued.

"You must remember that they are not of the Race of Man, Théoden. You cannot place your beliefs upon their culture." The king breathed a ragged sigh. "This war does not allow you to pick and choose amongst your allies good king. We now face desperate times. All should be welcome who choose to fight for the free peoples of Middle Earth. Regardless of sex."

Théoden looked down, paused in thought.

"Aye. Aragorn. Aye. 'Tis as you say. All are welcomed for we surely face a fading hope." 

Aragorn placed a comforting hand on the despairing king's shoulder before he turned and made his way to the battlements.

As the ranks filed along the long stone battlement, Haldir took Arohtarë aside, shrouded from the eyes of the army and the members of the fellowship, who were now milling about the wall.

"Meleth-nîn, we may not have such a chance again to speak…" he whispered, as he pulled her close to him.

"Istan Haldir - I know Haldir, and I take to cherish each moment we have left together. Never have I felt such foreboding in the air before a great battle. I grow uneasy and fear there is little hope of victory, though I do not fear death."

"Aye Arohtarë, as do I. Many years have we stood and fought together and many years have we loved. I have loved you from your first breaths meleth, and would be lost without you. But…should I fall, I would pass from this life in turmoil if you should fade. 'Tis not your fate Arohtarë. And you know this. The Lady has spoken this truth."

Arohtarë tightened her embrace around the Marchwarden, tears soaking into his cloak wrapped about her.

"And if I fall meleth? Can you say that you would not do the same? I have heard nothing from the Lady about your fate in my passing," she said quietly.

He gently pushed her from him and held her shoulders at arm's length, his gray-green eyes gazing at her intently.

"There was nothing for her to speak in that regard, meleth."

She searched for his meaning in his eyes but saw none, his gaze remaining intense but passive. As the first warning horn of the Helm was blown, indicating the enemy had been spotted, Haldir pulled Arohtarë roughly to him, capturing her lips with his. The kiss was so deep, so intense and desperate, that it almost brought them both to their knees. He leaned against the stonework for support, as they literally wrestled to hold each other tighter and closer than was physically possible. They seemed to absorb each other into their souls and burn each other into their memories. They parted their kiss and gazed intently into each other's eyes, still holding on to one another desperately.

"Meleth-nîn, always I shall love you, always even to my death," whispered the woman, as she leaned against his armor-clad chest.

"Nay, you shall love me in memory lirimier, that I will accept willingly, but you shall love again in your heart, though it cannot been seen from where we stand this eve, for you should not continue to love a dead man. You are mortal. You shall love again. 'Tis the Lady's words. You will find peace if I should fall, though I cannot say that I shall, should you," he voiced softly, as he stroked her hair.

"I could not bear the thought of you giving up your life's grace on my account Haldir. 'Tis not the fate of an Eldar. 'Tis something my heart could not bear," she whispered.

Haldir looked up suddenly, as Aragorn made his way to the elven contingent.

"'Tis time meleth to take our places. Know that I love you," he whispered, as he kissed her one last time and wiped the tears from her eyes.

"And I you meleth-nîn," she whispered as they parted.

They emerged from the shadows, the warrior's mask now back in place upon each of their faces, and quickly made their way to the front of the army.

Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn watched in awe, as the army, as vast as it was, moved as one unit with synchronicity, elegance and grace, executing each command given with steely precision. Arohtarë and Haldir walked among the ranks, calling commands and directions, as they moved the columns into the most strategic positions possible. As the two Captains past by each column, all eyes snapped in their direction in salute. As the second warning horn of the Helm was blown, indicating that the enemy approached the walls, and for all to be in position, Arohtarë faced the troops and drew her sword aloft, along with Haldir. She began addressing them, her voice strong and commanding.

"Astalderea! Ohtarea! - Valiant ones! - Warriors!  
Im sinta thaliolle e dagor! - I know your strength in battle!  
Ndengin e Brogol thalion! - Slay with strength!  
Ndengin e ama handasse! - Slay with cunning! "

Followed by Haldir's deep and formidable voice:

"Lye nuquernuva sen e dagor! - We will defeat them in battle!  
Ohtarea, Tir en' Lórien,- Warriors, Guard of Lórien  
Nai tiruvantel ar varyuvantel i Valar tielyanna nu vilya! - May the Valar protect you on your path under the sky!"

A great cheer went up and rose into a great crescendo, as 2000 strong called up an ancient battle cry. Both Captains turned to Aragorn, and nodded, signaling that their army was now ready for him to take command. Haldir and Arohtarë positioned themselves in front of the contingent, Haldir on the far right, Arohtarë to his right, and Legolas to Arohtarë's right and Gimli to Legolas's right. Aragorn walked behind the ranks and began to command the troops as the orc army came to a halt below, about 100 yards from the battlement wall. Aragorn paused behind the army and addressed them:

"Daer ú-o chyn, Ú-danno i failad a thi; an úben tannatha le failad - Show them no mercy! For you shall receive none!"

Legolas glanced at Arohtarë, who slowly met his gaze, a dark, cold, and steely look in her flaming green eyes. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise at the sight of them. He was taken aback by this transformation, realizing for the first time, that she was not untested to the ways of war. In this one glance, he saw the look of a battle hardened veteran and warrior glaring back at him. She nodded to him and then looked back out over the valley below. He swallowed. By the Valar… He struggled to remember where he had last seen such a glare. Their attention shifted to Aragorn's voice, as he commanded the army to ready their bows.

"Hado i philinn! - Prepare to fire arrows!"

All loaded their bows and waited. As they waited, the skies opened up with a drenching rain, pouring down in sheets. The fell army suddenly roared in unison and charged the walls, as lightening flashed.

Aragorn then gave the command to fire, "Leithio i philinn! - Fire arrows!" and the gates of hell opened upon Helm's Deep.

The battle began to rage all around them, as hundreds of deadly missiles rained upon the fell host below, killing hundreds per volley. Nearly all finding their marks. In turn, orc crossbows were loaded with bodkin-tipped bolts, designed specifically to punch through armor, and hundreds flew up to the battlements. Dozens of elves fell as a result of this deadly rain. Soon enough though, the Uruk and orcs started to lay ladders against the walls and Aragorn brought that to the fighters' attention 

"Pendraid! - Ladders!" He barked, then called out, "Hatholn! Hatholn! - Swords! Swords!" to the elven brigade as the supply of arrows dwindled to none, and orc ladder brigades began storming the walls. Haldir and Arohtarë were calmly calling commands, and fighting along side the troops at the same time.

Legolas watched as Arohtarë quickly put her bow in her harness with her left hand and drew her sword, in one swift and smooth movement, with her right. She spun the blade and swung at the first Uruk that peered over the top of the wall, taking its head. As he fought with his long knives, she was right by his side, Haldir on her other, both fighting with the ferocity of dragons. Haldir and Arohtarë fought very close to each other, but as the numbers of the enemy grew, they separated, as they spread the elven troops more evenly across the battlement. Gaining a moment of respite in the fighting, Gimli nudged Legolas and pointed to where both of the Lórien Captains were battling.

Both were fighting like demons possessed, almost strike for strike. Gimli and Legolas traded glances, shaking their heads in awe, and resumed there own fighting. Arohtarë remained close to Legolas, as she moved her way down the left of the ranks. Shortly thereafter, the elf chanced to glimpse Arohtarë fighting two orcs at once, her movements a blur, and Haldir battling an Uruk farther away. Aragorn's voice was heard to rise above the din, from behind the Deepening Wall where he commanded some of the elves in reserve, for the Captains to move the elves to the Keep, as the Wall was being over run with Saurman's fell host. "Nan Barad! Haldir! Nan Barad! - To the Tower Haldir! To the Tower!" As Legolas glanced back at Arohtarë, a sharp cry pierced the air, and she glanced quickly in Haldir's direction. Legolas's eyes snapped in Haldir's direction as well, and stared in horror.

Seeing that Haldir had dropped his sword, and was cradling his sword arm to his chest, she gave a mighty swing of her own sword, catching both beasts she was battling across their midsections, and then bound towards the injured Marchwarden. Legolas watched as, just before she got to his side, she was attacked by a rouge orc, which hindered her progress towards him. Slicing her way through it, she continued forward but not in time. A huge Uruk rose behind Haldir and struck a fatal blow at his back.

Screaming his name, she flung herself at the beast, running it through. Haldir sank to his knees and fell back into Arohtarë's arms, as she dropped her sword to catch him.

"Meleth-nîn…" he whispered, reaching for her face, with a bloodied, gloved hand. It barely reached her face, when he gasped deeply and then went still. 

She caught his hand before it fell to his side and pressed it to her cheek. Legolas's heart sank to the pit of his stomach as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. Before he could react, he was frozen to the spot as a wild blood-curdling scream, followed by feral shrieking, filled the air over the din of battle. On the battlements, ally and foe alike literally froze in mid-action for a split-second, upon hearing the sounds. The hair on Legolas's neck stood straight up and his body shivered. The sounds had come from Arohtarë, as she cradled Haldir's lifeless body in her arms. Even Aragorn, down behind the Deepening Wall, and Théoden up at the Hornburg, looked up in shock at the sound.

Legolas had to cover his ears at the shrillness of Arohtarë's cries, as he finally made his way to her and knelt by her side. She looked up at him slowly, and he was terrified by the gaze that met his, sending another shiver down his spine. Her eyes had turned from soft emerald green to a cold moss green, with black silted pupils within them. They were like that of a great cat. His blood nearly froze at the sight of them. The elf stumbled backwards on his heels slightly, as she looked at him, still cradling Haldir in her arms, a low rumbling growl emanating from her chest, and what looked like a snarl playing upon her lips.

He was shocked, as he noted her eyes turn back to their normal coloring and the pupils back to round, right before his eyes.

He jumped slightly at the sound of her voice. "You have no arrows nor sword, young prince, and your knives will serve you poorly in this fray. There are too many, even for you. 'Tis not safe for a lone, unarmed archer here. I shall accompany you to the Keep by my sword," she said, in a surprisingly calm and level voice, as she lay Haldir down and led Legolas towards the battlement stairway.

"M'lady I…"

She wheeled on him, eyes glaring.

"There is no time for words young Princeling, follow or die!" she snapped as she descended the stairs. He obeyed reluctantly, not being one to take orders in such a way.

Once they had made their way over the fields to the Keep, she abruptly turned to the prince and put a hand to his shoulder.

"Forgive my demeanor Legolas. I could not bear to lose yet another of our kind. I did not mean to snap at you. 'Tis a black night for us all and tempers are high." She patted his shoulder lightly. "Go to your friends Legolas. I shall remain here in the Keep, with the rest of the Galadhrim."

She turned to leave, when Legolas grasped her hand and drew her back around to face him.

"You will be well, m'lady?" he whispered.

"Nay mellon, I shall not, but 'tis not something you can aid. Go now; there is no time to tarry. May the Valar be with you young Elda."

She bowed slightly, and he put his fist across his chest and did the same. She swiftly rejoined the remnants of her contingent and they battled on behind the Wall, as Legolas joined with the others to fight at the Great Gates, and then ride from the Hornburg causeway.


	4. Chapter 4

Text that is in italics are flashbacks.

Text that is in bold italics is conversation taking place in the minds of characters speaking with each other.

Please, read, review, comment. It means a lot to me, as your feedback not only tells me if my material is something that you all like, it also helps me to understand where I can do better in my own original fantasy/fiction that I also write. Enjoy.

As dawn broke, Arohtarë walked the Deepening Wall battlement alone and in silence, searching for the place where Haldir had fallen. Her armor and tunic were stained with orc and elven blood, mingled, in places, with her own. She had emerged from the battle relatively whole and hale, taking several deep gashes to her arms and left leg, and one over her right brow. Her hands were bloody and swollen but that discomfort would pass soon enough. Her armor was dented and split in several places; her ribs ached and were possibly broken in the places of the damaged armor, but otherwise she was intact. The battle had been won by the sudden appearance of Gandalf and the Rohirrim, but just barely, and the toll in lives had been heavy. Of the elves, only a handful of the Galadhrim, and herself, had survived the onslaught.

The results of the battle were horrid to look upon. The stench of death, Uruk and Orc hung in the air like a fetid shroud. As she gazed over the carnage, she took in a ragged breath. So many…so young…Her gaze fell upon the sightless eyes of the broken, twisted body of a young boy, no more than eight winters, caught under the body of a huge Uruk. Apparently, the youth had managed to kill the beast, as it ran him through, its sword still impaled in his tiny frame. She closed her eyes, a jolt of anger and deep sadness passing through her. Letting out a long breath and opening her eyes, she walked on. As she searched, she was aware of a lone figure watching from the dark recesses of the stone walkway. Legolas.

"Come forth Elda, for there is no need to shroud yourself from me," she called, to the shadowy figure. 

Startled, Legolas slowly emerged from the shadows, the hint of blush tipping his ears.

"Again, m' lady, forgive me if I have caused you discomfort." She gazed at him a bit sadly. 

"On the contrary Legolas, you cause a bit of joy in the midst of chaos. I find no discomfort in your presence."

"I did not realize you could sense my presence, seeing that …" he let his voice trail off, feeling that he was speaking in disrespect. 

"…seeing that I am mortal?" she finished for him. 

He grimaced. "Aye," he replied softly, gazing downward.

She chuckled under her breath, and continued to search among the dead. They walked together in silence for a bit until they came to a place of familiarity in Arohtarë's mind. She looked down and sighed.

"The heat of battle plays tricks on one's mind, I fear," she said trying to gain her bearings. "This appears to be the place of his fall, but many have joined him since," she murmured, more to herself than to Legolas, as she gazed over the many that had fallen after the Marchwarden.

She began turning over the bodies of elven dead, grimacing slightly, as she recognized each of their faces, male and female. Legolas noted that she appeared to know each one that she turned, by name. No easy feat, seeing that there were well over 2,000 elves in their contingent. Finally, as Legolas turned over the next to last body on the stone path, Arohtarë saw a telltale fleck of crimson beneath.

"Ah, there you are, meleth…" she breathed quietly.

His brow rose curiously at her chosen word. 'Meleth'? He watched silently, as she lifted his body and removed his scabbard and quiver harness, then searched for his bow and sword amongst the others. Finding them, she slipped the bow into the harness, and the sword into the scabbard. She then turned back to Haldir, raised him at the shoulders once more, and removed his bloodied cloak.

Before she rose, Legolas barely heard her whisper, "Namarie meleth-nîn, journey well to the Halls of Mandos and be at peace," as she placed her hand on his chest and bowed her head.

She took the weaponry and wrapped it in the cloak, and then rising, she took the bundle in her arms and began to make her way towards the stairway, leading down to the field in front of the Keep. She nodded to two beleaguered elven warriors who awaited her command, indicating that they could now remove their leader's body. Legolas bowed his head in respect as the fallen Marchwarden was carried past, then fell into step with the Mortal as they followed silently behind, both not wanting to speak, in fear of breaking the solemn silence that seemed to be appropriate for the moment. Aragorn met her gaze, as she made her way into the inner Hornburg and his heart sank. This was the first time since the battle had ended that he had chanced to see her. When he saw her carrying Haldir's weaponry, he knew at once what had transpired.

"Arohtarë, I am sorry," he said, taking the weaponry from her arms, passing them to Legolas, and then taking her into a gentle embrace.

"Aye, Aragorn, He is gone," she said softly into his shoulder, as the litter bearing Haldir's body was borne past the three of them.

He gently drew her away from the embrace and held her at arm's length, hands on her shoulders, studying her face for a moment.

"What do you wish to do now hiril-nîn? Will you return to Lórien?" 

She sighed and dropped her gaze briefly, her eyes flicking past the ranger as she watched the litter carriers disappear into the chambers set aside for the dead.

"At this moment, I wish to rest, brother. And to care for my husband's body as well as those of my fallen people. Once this is done, my head is clear and my body rested, then I shall decide what I shall do next."

He drew her into another short embrace then looked her over, assessing her injuries.

"Your wounds need tending m'lady. Please, allow me to give you comfort in this way."

She slowly nodded in acceptance, as he led her to a small room where wounded were already being tended. Legolas followed them with Haldir's belongings.

After treating her injuries Aragorn said, nodding to Lady Éowyn, "The Lady Éowyn shall show you what quarters there are. Take your rest Lady Arohtarë. We shall speak again, when you are able."

"Aye. Aragorn. Much thanks for your comforting words and healing hands," she voiced quietly, as she turned to join Éowyn waiting behind her. 

Legolas stepped before her, handing her Haldir's weaponry. She glanced up at the elf with a soft smile, took the bundle, and touched his arm as she slowly walked past. Legolas stood gazing at the two women as they exited the great hall. Aragorn had come to his side, in the meantime, and followed the women with his eyes as well. 

"She is a most remarkable woman Aragorn and a formidable fighter. I am gladdened that she is of our ally."

Aragorn chuckled softly at the elf's statement.

"That is to be certain mellon. She has spent nearly her whole life at war, Legolas. Very little peace has been known to her."

Legolas looked at Aragorn with questioning eyes. "You know her well, mellon?" 

"Aye. Very well Legolas. We have fought together many times. Her, Haldir and myself."

"Her name and that of Haldir come up together often. Who is she, really?"

"You do not know, mellon?"

"Nay. Truly I do not."

Long pause.

"She is Haldir's wife, Legolas."

The elf stared squarely at the future king, lips slightly parted.

"I did not know he had taken a wife. If I did, t'would not have been so bold as to gaze in her direction."

Aragorn chuckled. "Any other would have felt Haldir's wrath soundly, but you knew naught. This gained you respite in his eyes and kept his hands from your throat. She can take care of herself mellon, and I have seen such when another, not to her liking, had passed too close." 

They both laughed lightly as they walked.

"I would not have thought a mortal could attain such lofty status Aragorn." He paused in thought for a moment. "Though, many years ago, I knew well of a young mortal woman who attained the rank of a Lórien guard."

Aragorn looked at the elf with interest. "Indeed?"

"Aye. I knew her very well, and was present when she went through her trials. I was there when she was indoctrinated into the Guard. She was the only mortal to have accomplished such and one of the youngest," said the elf quietly and with a bit of pride, absently running his hand across his chest and feeling the pendant that still lay close to his heart. 

The ranger noted this movement and a flickering wave of sadness pass across the elf's eyes. He was deeply lost in thought.

Aragorn waited patiently for a short time then cleared his throat, gently bringing the elf back into reality.

"Who was she mellon, this woman you speak of, if you do not mind my asking?"

Legolas blinked and looked up, as if he didn't know where he was at that moment.

Fixing his gaze upon the ranger he said, "Her name was Craban. She was Haldir's daughter."

Aragorn's heart nearly skipped a beat. He had heard Haldir speak of his daughter on several rare occasions in the past, but would never have given thought that the Mirkwood elf would have known her as well.

"You actually knew Craban? I would never have guessed."

The elf looked sadly at the man. "Aye, Aragorn. Many years ago, before your birth. I met the elleth during one of the several diplomatic journeys that occurred between my father's realm and Lórien at that time. I spent several months in Lórien and she was my…" He paused and smiled shyly, chuckling softly, "…guide."

Aragorn eyed him in amusement. "Guide, eh?" he quipped.

Legolas shot him a reproachful glance then smiled slightly.

"Aye she was…in the beginning…" His voice trailed off and Aragorn just smiled knowingly. "It was because of this relationship I had with his daughter that I and the Marchwarden came to know each other very well." The elf uncharacteristically chuckled loudly. "Not that he would have wanted me to know him that well, or for the reasons of my knowing his daughter, at first…" He smiled at the memories.

"And what became of her mellon, again, if you do not mind my asking?"

The Elf's mood sank once again to a somber air.

"We corresponded for several years after my return to Mirkwood, and then fate took us in different directions. Her duties as a guard sent her far from the center of the Golden Wood and mine from Mirkwood. Now and again, word would reach me that she fared well, but soon after we lost touch. I have always regretted never returning to the Golden Wood as I had once promised. Though I do not know of what eventually became of her, being of mortal blood, she has long since passed."

Surprisingly, the elf felt the burning of tears threaten to spill but he forcefully held them back. He looked back at the ranger.

"Craban was extremely gifted as a warrior Aragorn, even for her young age. If anyone, she would have attained such status. This woman though, has apparently done the same and more. She is a captain and warden as well. I would not think that there was, or would ever be, another of Craban's kind, to be able to match the skills of elven kind, qualifying her for such stations."

Aragorn pursed his lips and looked the elf squarely in the eyes.

"Legolas, have you not seen her skill in battle? She is one of the best sword masters in Elvendom mellon, besting even myself. Her archery skills are worthy of yours and of Haldir's as well."

Legolas looked sadly into Aragorn's eyes. "Truly Aragorn, I am ignorant of such, other than what I beheld on the battlements. I did not know the true depth of her skill. My words are spoken out of curiosity mellon, not malice."

"Uma, Istan Legolas, Istan. - Yes I know Legolas, I know. Mayhap you should speak with her yourself, if the chance arises."

"Nay. I fear her grief is too deep and close to her heart to carry on such musings," he sighed. "And…she may well be gone back to Lórien before such opportunity arises betwixt us."

Aragorn studied the elf's face for a moment.

"She is not that tender my friend, to be hurt or offended by the words of a caring soul. She will speak with you. You will know the time in which to approach."

They walked silently for a bit then, "The screams Aragorn. I have never heard such from the throat of any living creature, save that of a great beast. I chanced to see her eyes, as she held Haldir in her arms, and t'was met by a sight of frightening malice."

Aragorn glanced quickly at the elf, unnoticed. "What did you chance upon seeing, exactly?" 

"It t'were as if I gazed into the eyes of a lion. A great cat. Her eyes were turned from deep green to gold and brilliant green, with black slits in their centers. Never have I beheld such." 

Aragorn remained quiet until they had reached the armory. He turned to the elf with a glint in his eye.

"She is unlike any other you shall ever chance upon Legolas. This is all I can say of yet. Speak with her. She entrusts you or she would never have approached you in the beginning."

He held a hand on the elf's shoulder. "Go to her, mellon. Of all things in Arda this moment, she needs a friend and comfort. Neither of which I can provide to her at this time," he sighed wearily, running his hand through his tousled hair, as he turned toward the door of the armory, and slipped inside to join Théoden.

Legolas stood alone in the hall for a moment, pondering their conversation. He slowly made his way back to the great hall and chanced upon Lady Éowyn, as she emerged from one of the halls.

"M'lady! Could you perchance tell me of the Lady Arohtarë's quarters?" 

She looked at the elf with warm eyes.

"Aye good lord. Straight down this hall and first door on the left," she smiled then said, "She sleeps m'lord, and deeply. I had not even shown her the bed afore she fell to it in slumber."

The elf thanked the woman and made his way to her chambers anyway. If for nothing else but to learn of its location first hand. As he stood in front of her door, a voice floated from within.

"Enter young prince, if you wish." He was startled by her voice, and even more so by the fact that she knew who stood outside her door.

He opened the door slowly and peered into the darkened room, weakly illuminated by two large candles by the bed.

"Come in mellon. I am decent."

He heard her chuckle, and found her draped across a chaise near the mantel, now dressed in a golden tunic, black leggings and boots.

"I am waiting on a fire, as a sentinel went to fetch some wood. Twill be warm and comforting within the hour," she said, motioning for the elf to join her on the chaise. "Though elves do not crave warmth as do I on occasion," she quipped.

"I do not intrude m'lady?" he asked softly, as he sat down.

"Assuredly not! If in need of comfort and company, t'would be you of my own kind that I would wish."

He smiled as he sat by her side. As he settled into the pillows she said, "To what do I owe this honor of holding audience with the Prince of Mirkwood, pray tell?" 

He smirked slightly at hearing his formal title and looked down shyly.

"Such humbleness I have not seen in the male form," she quipped in jest, giggling softly.

He looked up and saw laughter in her eyes. _How can she possibly feel such mirth after the death of her husband?_ he thought. He was brought out of his thoughts by silence and the fact that Arohtarë was staring at him intently.

"What brings frowning to your fair face young elf?"

He had no idea that he was even frowning.

"Forgive me. I did not chance to know that I was," he said sheepishly, hoping she hadn't felt his disdain.   
Just then, a rapping on the door took their attention, as a soldier entered with an armful of wood. He dropped it by the mantel and moved to stack it in the fire grate, when Legolas stayed his hand.

"I will take care of it my friend. Go rest from your labors."

The soldier thanked the Elf and bowed to the woman upon exiting her chambers.

Legolas turned back to Arohtarë saying, "I had come with the sole intention of only seeking your quarters. The Lady Éowyn had said that you were asleep and I did not plan on disturbing you. As I found my way to your door, you called to me. So..." he raised his hands in mock resignation, "…here I sit at your request." She giggled softly, as he rose and began stacking the wood in the grate. 

"Were I not asleep you would come to talk, aye?" 

"Aye. T'would be my purpose."

Kneeling by the fireplace, he glanced up over his shoulder at the woman as he spoke.

She opened her arms and said, "Well then good prince, I sleep not. Speak then," she joked, eyeing him playfully.

Finishing his task and lighting the fire, he said, "This should warm you in a bit m'lady," standing and making his way back to the chaise. He became silent for a bit, gazing at the flames leaping around the crackling wood.

"Dear elf, has the cat got your tongue?"

He unconsciously shuddered at the mention of the word 'cat' and stared at her with a bit of trepidation. Noting his expression, Arohtarë sat up a bit taller and moved closer to him. He didn't even notice that he had drawn back slightly, as she came nearer.

"Mellon? What troubles you? 'Tis as if a Warg sits before you, ready to pounce!" she said, studying him for a moment, then slowly drew back against the chaise. "If I did not know better, t'would say you are afraid of me, mellon," she mused darkly.

"I…" He started to mutter but stopped.

"T'was what you saw and heard upon the battlements, that tears at you so, aye?"

He looked at her, and she could see in his eyes that her guess was correct.

"Aye. 'Tis. I can see it in your eyes Legolas." She sat up once more, taking his hands in hers saying, "T'was frightening for you, assuredly."

She held his face gently between her fingers, as she looked into his crystal blue eyes. He could not pull his gaze from her, as she held him, entranced, with her own. He suddenly felt at ease and peaceful. She felt the tension ease in his hands and saw it melt from his face. That gaze, those eyes. She could feel the memories pour back into her heart. No. She blinked, pushing the thoughts back to the recesses of her mind. She released him from her gaze and her grasp, sinking against the chaise's back.

"Now then, fair prince. What would you like to talk about? I am in the mood for a bit of chatter."

He chuckled, feeling a bit foolish for acting as he had. "M'lady, I have been taken off guard for conversation. As I did not come with such intention this eve."

"Very well then, mayhap another time. Now that you know of my whereabouts, you are always welcome." She paused thinking. "I take it you rest in the general quarters with your friends or have other arrangements been made for you?"

"We have been granted the room next to the Armory. 'Tis comfortable enough."

"Should I chance to pass by, I shall be certain to call out."

"Aye, m'lady. Twould be a pleasure. Good eve Lady Arohtarë."

Good eve to you, fair one." He kissed her hand and quietly left her rooms.

Arohtarë smiled sadly, knowing that the elf was hesitating and greatly controlling the urge to ask innumerable questions. Aragorn had told her he was vastly curious about other cultures and had an unusual thirst for knowing, outside the elven realm of knowledge. This, and much more she already knew about him. Highly unusual for Mirkwood Eldar, especially because she was not of elven kind. Well, in part anyway. She smiled again softly, as she left her bedchamber and made her way to the rooms where Haldir's body lay. Legolas was unique to his kind that was certain.

She entered the chambers of death, the title she had subconsciously given this place, and let her eyes drift over the solemn dead. Both races lay as equals in the endless sleep. Aside from the grievous wounds and blood stained raiments, they appeared peaceful, as if naught of ill had befallen them. A great wave of yearning suddenly swept over her and she steadied herself against the door jamb, closing her eyes. How she desired to lie in death among them. Opening them slowly, her gaze fell upon the outstretched form of her beloved; silver hair matted with his life's blood, mingled with that of Man and Orc. Slowly she moved to his side and placed a hand upon his cooled forehead. His eyes were still open and staring blankly at the vaulted ceiling, his features stoic even in death. She drew her palm down over his silver-gray eyes, closing them to her and the world, forever. As the tears streamed down her face, she leaned in and placed a final kiss upon his brow, then his lips, whispering final, parting words of love and despair.

Stepping away, she moved to the hearth and set a kettle to boil, warming water for the cleansing of her husband's body. As she moved the vessel to the coals, the faint sparkle of gold met her sight. She paused in her task and lightly ran a finger over the thin gold band on her right forefinger. Her betrothal ring. Smithed 147 years ere. Shaking the thoughts of their life together from her mind, she refocused upon her task at hand. Once the water was warmed she moved to the bier upon which Haldir lay. She removed his battered armor and tattered tunic, then moved to his leggings, removing them as well. She drew up a linen sheet, so as to provide a bit of honor and privacy to her husband's body, shrouding his battered and naked form from prying eyes. 

Slowly and methodically she washed and anointed his body, beginning with his hair and moved the length of his body to his feet. After cleansing the front of his torso, she gently rolled him onto his side and it was then that she first beheld the gaping wound that had claimed his life, running from between the top of his shoulders down to his right hip. As the tears clouded her eyes, she choked back a sob, a wave of nausea passing through her. Laying him back down, she grasped the edge of the bier to steady herself. Though she had borne witness to the most grievous of injuries and maiming throughout her long years of battle, the vision of such inflicted upon one loved so dearly was disquieting, and she was overwhelmed with the deepest of grief. She remained this way for a long moment, allowing the shock and sickness to pass then, regaining her composure, she set about the grim task of cleaning and stitching the wound.

When she completed the ritual, she took his clothing and washed as much of the filth of battle as she could from the material. As they dried, she took up a sewing kit from her tunic and began repairing the garments as best as could be done. He would be sent home fully dressed and armored, along with his cloak and armaments... and one last item...Slipping the gold band from her finger, Arohtarë placed it into a small pocketed slit she had made in Haldir's tunic, directly over his heart. With several quick stitches, the life and love she had come to cherish for nigh two centuries, was sealed in death for all eternity.

Late into the evening, Arohtarë returned to her own chambers in silence. It was going to be a long, hard, and cold night, as this would be the first time in over 140 years that she would lay alone. He had been her life, literally. Never, in her entire existence, did she once think that he would pass before she did. To her, he always seemed invincible, untouchable by the hand of death. Her whole life in Lórien had been spent by his side, and now she was totally at a loss as to what she was going to do without him. She yearned to be by his side even now, in death. She cursed the fact that she remained alive when, all she had ever loved, had died around her. Tears began to burn behind her closed eyes, as she tried to shake the images of the past day and night from her mind. "There will be little sleep this night," she sighed, as she opened her eyes and they gazed upon the empty bed. And the tears came. To add to her agony, memories of her binding to Haldir, and the history of her life flooded her mind and infiltrated her dreams when she finally fell into an uneasy slumber.


	5. Chapter 5

Text that is in italics are flashbacks.

Text that is in bold italics is conversation taking place in the minds of characters speaking with each other.

This is a brand new section that has been requested of me for a very long time. I was finally threatened by wonderful friends, who said that they were going to nominate this story for the MEFAs, but only if I expanded the flashback scene of my OFC and Haldir's binding. Ok then. Here it is. In a chapter all by its oneses. This would never have come into being without the following Wordsmiths. Thank you so very much to my troupe of Betas: Elentari, Kwannom, Khell and a very, very dear and loved individual, Tweetie, who is too humble to allow her name to be mentioned. But I have never been one to follow directions... : )

_Over the years Arohtarë grew into a mature woman. Physically she had filled out and her body showed the lithe muscled form of a warrior. Though adept at her current age of 24, she still had two more years of growth before her features and figure had completely set. Along with her physical prowess came a vast improvement in weaponry skills and she was currently beginning the extensive training process to become a warden herself. It would be many long years before she would enter trials for this position, but Haldir felt that she should start the training early in her career. Already she had been made a unit leader. As a result of her actions previously that year, she now directed five troops under her command _

_Occasionally she thought of Legolas, and her feelings toward him never left her. The deep rooted sentiments brought on by their years of separation were pushed far into the recesses of her mind. Now and again, reports would come from Mirkwood about the worsening Orc problem. The Lady, who seemed to understand how much Arohtarë needed assurance, would send her word that the prince was faring well. Intermittently, however, memories of their unrequited love, of their intimate moments boldly pushed their way to the forefront of her thoughts, unbidden._

_In her 23rd year, while she readied for the annual Summer Solstice Feast, her mind errantly drifted back to those happy days. She recalled another feast, and the ensuing time when the Mirkwood elf's presence brightened her days and lit up her nights with love and passion. Donning a navy blue cloak over a rarely worn gold embroidered gown, Arohtarë suddenly thought of Legolas and what he might be doing at that very moment. Would he, too, be readying for his own feast? Was he yet married? Courting or, worse yet, off somewhere battling for his life against Sauron's evil?_

_A few days past, she herself had only arrived home from the northern borders. Though suffering from a wound, it was not as grievous as others had faired. With three of her contingent laid up in the healing halls and one of them barely clinging to life, she could only wonder if such a fate befell her golden-haired love. She sighed as she took up a delicate string of diamonds and rested it against her throat. Why could things not have gone differently? Clasping the necklace's fastening, her eyes fell to the mithril adornment hanging below the diamond jewels, hidden by the neckline of her gown. _

"_Oh Legolas..." she whispered, lightly tracing the filigreed design of the jewel encrusted leaf Shocked that rare tears had suddenly sprung forth and began dancing their way down her cheeks, she swiftly drew the backs of her hands over her face. Quickly, she made her way from the chambers. Tears clung stubbornly at the corners of her eyes, she brashly swiped them away as she hurried toward the feasting grounds._

_Haldir had dressed much earlier and had made his way to the festivities. Long before Arohtarë had arrived home from her visits to her friends, he had already proceeded with getting dressed. He made the rounds, ensuring that his guardians were in position and duly protecting the inner stronghold. Instructing them, he gave the orders for the gathering of information from sentries. Also they were to pay special attention to those scouts who were constantly arriving and departing. They brought updates regarding the location of various bands of marauding orcs. Even as they welcomed in yet another summer season, all in the Wood were well aware of the dangers lurking just beyond the thick barrier of Mallyrn they were now celebrating behind._

_Haldir was just heading to the head table, when he espied his daughter make her rather abrupt entrance to the circle. He did not miss the look of distress that darkened her face. That was odd. Just this afternoon upon her return from the healing halls she had happily greeted him. They exchanged pleasantries before she was off again to visit her friends. He dropped his gaze for a moment frowning slightly ,then looked back in her direction. _

_She remained there, standing by her table, seemingly a bit confused. For some unknown and sudden reason, he felt his heart lurch and took note of a most strange feeling of desire to be closer to her. Tonight she looked exceptionally stunning, and he realized he saw her beauty from more than fatherly eyes. More so he found her lovelier than any other time he could recall. And these feelings riveting his gaze to her were not the same as they were then, definitely not._

_Shaking off these unsettling thoughts, the Marchwarden walked determinedly to his daughter's side, and placed a chaste kiss upon her cheek. She turned toward him, uncertainty in her eyes, as if she was slightly startled to have him so close. Blinking rapidly several times, her eyes cleared and she smiled warmly at her father. _

"_Mae govennen, adar."_

"_And to you my daughter. How do you fare?" His eyes searched hers for signs of pain but found little._

"_Ah! I am well, father. Merely scratches and a few bruises. Nothing more." Her eyes suddenly darkened and in a low voice she said, "Fingol, on the other hand, fares poorly, I'm afraid." She paused, attempted to conceal the anxiety in her voice. "The healers say that twill be the will of the Valar if he is to survive the night."_

_Haldir took one of her hands in his, kissed its back, replying, "Yes. I was saddened by the news. When I heard of your unit coming into the Healing Halls, I went immediately. Galieon told me the grievous news." He patted her hand and then turned her face toward his. _

"_Learning you were well lifted my spirits,my sweet." He then placed a soft kiss upon her brow as she draped her arms around his waist in a warm hug._

"_Twas wonderful to see you after so many moons on the fences, ada," she whispered, then kissed his cheek._

_At the moment she kissed his face, an extraordinary and frightening warmth bloomed and coursed through her being. She abruptly pulled back from the embrace and gazed anxiously up at him. The same occurred within Haldir. The both of them stood there for several moments, wondering what in the depths of Mordor just happened to the both of them._

_Nervously clearing his throat , Haldir led Arohtarë to her unit's table. He bowed slightly, and took her hand kissing it lightly. Then he turned swiftly toward the head table where the servants were readying it for the arrival of the Lord and Lady. As he took his place, Galadriel and Celeborn were announced. Once they reached their table and were seated , the music began to play. Servants wove their way through the tables, placing goblets and bottles of wine upon each._

_Throughout the evening, Haldir stole glances in Arohtarë's direction. Twice, their eyes met and they both caught each other staring. Each quickly diverted their gaze, feigning a chat with their table mates. They both experienced a foreign sensation which left them extremely uneasy. A great fire was building within the warrior-elf, something that he had never experienced before; an ordeal he was not wholly happy to be enduring. _

_Verily, he was mostly embarrassed and appalled at the feelings that were rapidly growing, since their embrace hours ere. This was his daughter, he should be feeling parental pride and consideration not an overwhelming regard reserved for courtship! Holding his goblet much firmer than he wished, some of its contents sloshed over the rim spilling onto the fine linen table cloth. Momentarily glancing at the growing crimson stain, he quickly downed the drought and rose abruptly from the table. _

_Rúmil and Orophin were watching their elder sibling with amusement, as it was obvious that an elleth had unknowingly captured Haldir's attention. A rare event indeed and the brothers were not apt to pass off this observation lightly._

"_Whom do you consider amongst these beauties to have enraptured our eldest, brother?"_

_Orophin snorted in laughter. "I cannot be certain, however, should she become aware of such attention, surely she shall give our elder a merry chase!"_

_As the two brothers chuckled loudly, an elleth did become aware of Haldir's attention, and was in the process of making a speedy departure to whereabouts unknown. Her exit caught the attention of the two now sniggering elves, and the laughs died upon their lips. They both gaped at Arohtarë in disbelief as she threw an anxious glance in Haldir's direction. Interestingly, the brothers followed her line of sight and were stunned to see it met in kind by the Marchwarden. They watched as she quickly averted her eyes before bolting for the path leading to their talan. _

_Rúmil and Orophin looked briefly at one another before rising nonchalantly, quietly making their way after the obviously distraught woman. Haldir stared at the back of his departing daughter and cursed silently. He needed to leave. Now. Glancing at his brother's table he watched them rise and begin to follow after Arohtarë. _

'_Blast! They observe every little detail', he hissed sotto voice, as he called out to them._

"_Rúmil! Orophin!"_

_The brothers stopped abruptly in mid-step, glancing over their shoulders at their brother's fierce glare. Their keen sight noted the twitching muscle in Haldir's clenched jaw as he waited impatiently for their immediate return. They looked to each other then shook their heads, and turned back toward Haldir._

_As they trudged, heads down, toward the impatient Marchwarden, Rúmil quipped, "A fortnight at the borders, I wager..."_

"_Aye, at least." Orophin retorted under his breath._

_Arohtarë hurriedly climbed the stairs to their talan, threw open the door and swiftly crossed to her bed chamber. She needed to gather what she could and spend a few days in the comfort of the surrounding woods. What ever was happening between her and her father, she wanted none of it. And she certainly didn't want to be present when her father arrived home. _

_Meanwhile, Haldir was swiftly closing in upon his talen, Rúmil and Orophin in tow. Arohtarë had left just moments before, so neither met up with the other, thankfully. Haldir quickly changed out of his finery and into his field clothing, then gathered his weapons. He stuffed an extra tunic and leggings into a small pack and then added foodstuffs in case he needed sustenance. Briskly he exited the home, meeting his brothers at the base of the tree._

"_Brother? Why such haste? There are nigh 2000 warriors at the northern outposts!" He seethed._

"_Do not question my decisions, Rúmil. I feel the need to walk the fences." He threw a scathing glare at Orophin who opened his mouth to opine on the situation, and throw in his own pointed comment as well. He snapped his jaw shut in resignation._

"_And your need causes us discomfort..." goaded Rúmil with a snort. _

_Haldir stopped abruptly, turning suddenly upon his younger sibling . "A bit of rough living shall do you..." he turned his gaze at Orophin. "...And you, a great deal of good! You both grow soft, lounging like maidens gossiping over tea!"_

_He stabbed his finger past Orophin's nose. "Now, march!"_

_Both brothers were accustomed to the elder's gruffness, but could not figure what had riled him up into such a foul disposition. They agreed in an unspoken accord that perhaps Arohtarë had irritated him in some way. It wasn't hard to discern,as Haldir's and his daughter's behavior during the celebration had been odd to say the least. _

_Meeting up with Haldir's personal guard unit, all three made their way to the northern borders. They planned on remaining there for what was supposed to be only two fortnights._

_Arohtarë had found her way to a simple talan, located near a small pond in the center of Caras Galadhon. This was their private refuge, where both father and daughter had spent countless hours and days enjoying each other's company. Also, it was where Haldir had taught her the many elven skills that she now excelled in. She climbed the tree trunk swiftly, pulling herself over the platform's edge. Dropping her pack and weapons by the door, she walked to the far edge of the platform. _

_The sun was just beginning its decent to the horizon, and Arohtarë leaned against the talan's railing. She closed her eyes and tried to put the experience and emotions of the day's festivities out of her mind, all to no avail. What, in the Blessed Realm, was happening to the both of them? He was her father! How could she harbour such romantic and intimate feelings for her father? She had only loved one person this way in her life, and only one. Arohtarë spent the remainder of that evening gazing at the stars, her heart and mind heavy with confusion._

_Many leagues away, a tall silver-haired elf-warrior did the same. Raising his face into the shimmering starlight, Haldir studied the heavens, pleading for answers to his very confused thoughts. What was happening to them? He bowed his head, closing his eyes. In silent contemplation he sought out answers. Dear Lady of Light, what is happening? Why do I feel so overset? Arohtarë...she is my daughter. My pride and joy. I cannot trust what I feel for her in my heart, at this time._

_But the Lady did not answer, and, for the remainder of the night, a great warrior stood in Elbereth's blessed light, fighting perhaps the greatest battle of his life._

_Arohtarë returned home one week later, learning only then that Haldir and her uncles also left for the fences the eve of the feast. Word came several days later that her father and his brothers would remain at the fences for at least three more moons. _

_Thankfully, Arohtarë would be returning to the northern borders about the time they were to return home, so she breathed a nervous sigh of relief. Upon her return, she made her way to the healing halls, hoping that Fingol had survived. She had optimism only because no sentry had sought her out during her solitude to inform her of any fell tidings. To her great relief, Fingol was sitting upright without assistance and seemed to be in good spirits._

"_Fingol! How do you fare my friend?"_

_Fingol turned stiffly from addressing another comrade, who was checking on his condition. His eyes met those of the mortal's,_

"_M'lady. I fare better. Many thanks for your good wishes."_

_Arohtarë came and sat by his bedside and took his hand. _

"_A fine fright you have given us all, Fingol. A fine fright!" she chuckled._

_Fingol furrowed his brow. "Twas not purposeful, m'lady."_

_Arohtarë snickered at the serious and brooding elf and squeezed his hand lightly. _

"_I was merely jesting, Fingol! A chortle on your part would do you well, my friend!"_

_Fingol snorted in pained indignation. "Laughing pains me, m'lady..."_

"_Forgive me, Lieutenant. It was cruel of me to suggest such a thing. Your current constitution shrouds the seriousness of your injuries."_

"_There is nothing to forgive. I am...er...not quite myself." He grinned as she patted his hand and bowed her exit._

"_Rest. I expect you in top form when you return to the unit." Looking over her shoulder, she issued that command, her tone held a hint of relief which she quickly masked with a curt nod. _

_He bent his head in respect and smiled as she left him._

_Returning to her and her father's talan, she deposited her gear and weapons on her bed and then made her way to the bathing chamber. Once the tub was filled she sank beneath the water's surface momentarily, wetting her hair, then bobbed up, leaning back against the now warmed stone wall. Three entire months alone and at home. She had not had such a luxury in years. Well, at least as an adult. _

_She calculated the time that she would be out of her father's presence, arriving at precisely six months in her mind. Perhaps this should be enough time to forget the feast even existed. And the oddness of it all. As she thought, the warmth of the mineral waters brought upon her a peaceful stupor and she began to doze. _

_When she awoke, the sun had already set and there was a rapping at the door._

_Uttering a curse under her breath she called to the intruder. "A moment!" as she hastily rose from her now cooled bath, grabbed a robe from the back of a chair, and made her way to the door. Opening it, she found her best friend, Branniel, standing without. _

_With an exasperated sigh, Arohtarë stepped aside and gestured for the elleth to enter, closing the door behind her. _

_"What brings you furiously pounding down my door, Branniel? Surely, there is no band of Orcs at your back?" The mortal peered curiously out the window, feigning to look for an imaginary foe tearing through the Golden Wood._

_"Of course not! Do not even jest about such a thing!" Her proper friend shivered at the thought while she spoke. _

_"Then out with it!" Arohtarë commanded in a clipped tone, drawing a giggle from the elleth. _

_"You are just like your father, you do realize?"_

_Arohtarë bristled at the remark but let it pass. The woman came and sat by her lifelong friend's side, giving her a pleading gaze. _

_"Aright! I shall tell you...but you must promise not to speak a word of what is spoken here? Promise?" The elleth gave Arohtarë a raised brow and fierce glare which did not match her sweet demeanor. It struck the mortal as very humorous. _

_Snorting out a most unladylike giggle, Arohtarë drew her hand to her heart and bowed solemnly, saying, "I give you my oath and swear, not a word shall fall from my lips regarding this council."_

_Branniel giggled then continued on. There was just a hint of a blush to her cheeks, and her head tipped down with a conspiratorial slant. Her voice was nearly a whisper._

_"Calanon and I are to be wedded..."_

_Arohtarë blinked several times after hearing the news then uncharacteristically squealed in delight. _

_"Oh! This is wonderful to hear, Branniel!"_

_Drawing back somewhat, she gazed at her friend saying, "But...why do you shroud the news? Is all well?" the woman asked in concern._

_"Oh, yes, yes. All is well. Tis just that..." she looked up at the mortal, her eyes bright with tears. _

_"What is it, my friend?" Arohtarë gently wrapped her arms around the elf as her friend let her tears fall. _

_"He is not certain of whether he shall return from the fences this time. He tells me that the raids have increased. That more guardians are being wounded or ...or..." _

_"Hush now, my dear friend. No one knows for certain their futures, tis true. Even the Lady cannot always be certain of the outcome." _

_She drew back from the elleth, tipping the elf's chin up to search her eyes. _

_"Calanon is a strong and fierce warrior. It is true that the Orc bands increase their attacks, but we are holding the borders well. Believe me when I say this, Branniel. You will be wedded by the end of the year. You shall see."_

_A muted sob escaped her friend's lips as she brushed away the last of her tears. Looking up at Arohtarë, Branniel said, "You, of all I am close to, would know, for you have chosen the life of a warrior. I believe you wholly." _

_She tilted her head once more saying, "He leaves with your unit, does he not?"_

_"Yes. In three moons's time."_

_"You will watch out for him as you are able?"_

_Arohtarë studied her friend's tear-stained features for a moment, then took her into a warm embrace. _

_"I shall promise this... that I shall do as best as I am able. I will keep an eye upon him, my friend."_

_Branniel smiled and squeezed the mortal's hands gently. _

_"You have given me hope. I have great confidence in you as well. Many thanks, Arohtarë. Many thanks." She kissed each cheek of the woman and hugged her tightly._

_Arohtarë rose and made her way to the cabinet by the kitchen, taking two goblets and a bottle of wine from its recesses. Returning to her seat, she poured two droughts, handing a goblet to the elleth. _

_Raising her fluted glass in a toast, Arohtarë said," To true and everlasting love. In peace evermore."_

_"Here, here," replied her friend, and they both sipped. They conversed long into the night and through the wee hours of the morn before Branniel took her leave. There were at least four hours till the dawn so Arohtarë retired to catch a few hours rest._

_As daylight broke, the mortal awoke, groggy from little sleep and her mind restless with the conversation of the previous night. The elleth had spoken the truth. Things were worsening. Nothing was certain. She cursed as she recalled her words to her friend. By what right did she have to give the girl such high hope? Her brazen arrogance was going to get her into trouble once more, if Calanon did not return from his rotation in one piece and alive. _

"_Valar!" she hissed as she grabbed her robe and made her way to the cooking hearth. Putting on a pot for tea, she turned her attention to her own toiletry. As she prepared for the day, throwing cool water over her face, the unbidden thoughts of marriage invaded her usual musings of battle strategies and formations. She froze in her ministrations and blinked. _

"_Marriage? Marriage! By the Valar! Just as I was ridding my mind of the events from the feast, Branniel fills it with foolish thoughts!" Nearly growling, Arohtarë grabbed viciously at a nearby towel, dragging it across her face and tossing it carelessly aside onto the floor, as she made her way back to the kitchen area to silence the squealing kettle._

"_This is what I deserve, dallying amongst the unwed maidens! Shant make that mistake next rotation..." she continued mumbling incoherently to herself, as she drank her tea and nibbled unenthusiastically upon a piece of honeyed bread. But her mind returned to the cursed subject. Shortly after she had left Legolas in his homeland, her mind filled with romantic notions of one day becoming his wife, sharing their lives together in unity, fulfilling their destinies side by side. Such naiveté of youth. Did she honestly believe in these fantasies? She popped the last of the bread into her mouth and chased it with the remainder of the tea. Reality was much different. And much more cruel._

_As she left the doorstep of her talan, another thought slammed into her mind, hard enough to jerk her forward. The blaring image of a lover, a spouse flashed through her minds eye._

'_HALDIR! No! Never! Will never happen!' her mind screamed, as she held her head in her hands and shook the thought from it, then hurried on her way. _

_The days passed into weeks and finally the time arrived for her and her unit to return to the borders. She had purposely put in for the northwestern sector; her trek taking her in the opposite direction of that which her father and his troops would be taking home. She also knew that it was also the most active sector, being closer to the Misty Mountains and the bolder Moria Orcs. This she did knowing it would keep her and her troops busy. Also, she knew that she must maintain alert, strategizing and doing so would deter her mind from thinking of her father. Selfish as this may have sounded, she also chose this detail because of her troops. _

_They grew restless and content as their leave extended, and many had begun pestering her to get on the paths and to the fences earlier than need be. But she had her orders. Finally, with parting words from the Lord and Lady, she, her troops and the rest of the battalion set out for their appointed tasks. But the Lady's voice wafted through the mortal's mind as she moved deeper into the surrounding forest._

"_Still your mind, child. Focus on the tasks at hand, Arohtarë. Worry not upon the things you can do naught about. Your people depend upon your sharp wit and swift actions. All shall be as it may. Be on your way with clear mind and eyes."_

_Arohtarë swallowed thickly, silently acknowledging her Lady's words, and sent her respects as she marched onward. This was going to be a trying three months to say the least. _

_As Haldir , his brothers and his own troops made their way through Lorien's gates, he was greeted by Galadriel's voice in his mind, beckoning him to come to her quarters as soon as he had refreshed himself. His mind had been preoccupied with the week's march and had wandered from the thoughts which had filled it for the past three months. Arohtarë. Little did he know that the object of his musings was now several leagues away in the opposite direction. And he would thank the Valar for that._

_For Arohtarë, her unit, and the rest of the battalion stationed at the northwest borders, the first several weeks passed uneventfully with nothing more than a handful of the enemy passing through their watch. These mindless minions were easily dispatched. However, by the second moon, things had changed markedly. These wandering bands were merely scouting parties, testing the defenses of the Galadhrim. This was a known fact among the battalion commanders and they had prepared their troops as best they could for much worse attacks. They had not long to wait. _

_For the next three months the Galadhrim fought ceaselessly, taking a great toll upon the larger and larger Orc bands. It was clear that their attacks were designed to wear down the elven forces, and push them into earlier and earlier rotations. The Orc commanders underestimated the elves however, and were met with fiercer resistance, the more they pressed against the unwavering and seemingly untiring Eldar. But tire they did. Pure adrenaline and bloodlust was all that kept them on their feet. By the time their three-month rotation was complete, Arohtarë had lost one of her troops and had a wounded Calanon to take back to Branniel. As well as herself. Though her injuries were not life threatening, they made for a most difficult journey back home. _

_All in all, the elves took light losses, though any loss of life was devastating. The dead were sent ahead of the returning troops and Haldir was busy coordinating the fresh rotations, as his brothers took the unfortunate task of notifying the families of the fallen. About a week before Arohtarë's battalion arrived at the gates, Haldir received word of their position and condition. A party of healers was sent to ease the walking wounded's march, and to fetch those too injured to make it any further. _

_His mind immediately went to Arohtarë. He knew she was wounded and he also realized in her stubborness she would refuse the healers' offer of bearing her home ahead of the troops. It had been the passing of six moons since father and daughter had seen each other and Haldir was apprehensive at their impending meeting. They did share a talan after all, as they had for the last 24 years. Valar! Had it been that long? He furrowed his brow. Things were not as they were, and he was no fool to think that they would ever be the same. He snorted in disgust to himself. He was her father. He would always be her father and these thoughts and feelings, that had gnawed at his heart and soul, would pass. He would see to it. He turned to a returning lieutenant and occupied his mind with the business of security _

_The returning troops entered Caras Galadhon well past midnight, the day of their arrival, and Arohtarë made a direct path for her home. She ignored the Healer's request that she come to the healing pavilion, saying she would promise to go to them in the morning. In the meantime, she would tend to her own wounds and get some sleep. Only after her people were tended to, did she set off to her home._

_By the time Haldir arrived home, Arohtarë was long asleep. He could feel her presence as far away as the foot of their huge 200 foot high Mallorn. Tempted as he was to peek into her room, as he had for the past 24 years, he restrained himself and made his way directly to his own chamber and fell into slumber himself._

_The following morning, just as the sun peeked over the horizon, Arohtarë rose and readied herself for the day, wanting to be up and out of the house before Haldir. Which was a very difficult feat as he could hear all in his sleep. Whether he heard her or feigned that he did not, she had no idea , but they did not meet in the kitchen area as they were prone to do. He always was up before her, always._

_Thanking the Valar for this oddity, Arohtarë busied herself with her morning ritual when a voice softly called to her in her mind. The Lady. Galadriel was summoning Arohtarë to her chambers. The woman hurried through her ministrations and hurried to her Lady's talan._

_As soon as he heard the door to the talan open and then close, Haldir sat up and hurried to the living room window. He got there just in time to see his daughter turn up the path and head toward the Lord and Lady's compound, situated in a magnificent mallorn in the south of the city. It was reached by a massive staircase which twined about the great trunk and ascended into the silvery bole . _

_He turned away from the window and headed toward the cooking area, rubbing his eyes and running his hands through his unbraided locks. This was going to be a very long day, he just knew it. Both of them were ultimately going to have to meet at some point and he dreaded the reunion. He put the kettle on and then entered the bathing chamber to wash up._

_As had become custom between them during such meetings, the Lady would discuss how Mirkwood fared, passing on her knowledge which she discerned through her gifts. Such conversation was interspersed with asking about the experiences the mortal had been through on the borders. But this day, Galadriel kept her longer after they had discussed her latest rotation. _

_"Arohtarë, there are several things I wish you to know. You are of a mature age and I feel that it is the proper time in your life for you to be familiar with knowledge about who and what you are. This understanding will serve you and many others well in the coming years." _

_"M'lady?" _

_Galadriel motioned for her to sit by her side. "You are of the Wildeor, child. The great and noble shape shifts of Ithilien's plains. Long is their life spans, so much so that I cannot see past the age of 3000 winters." The Lady watched the expression on the young woman's face, as her eyes grew wide. _

_"You are jesting are you not m'lady?" _

_Galadriel's eyes sparkled. "Nay, not this time Arohtarë. I jest not." _

_"Sweet Eru..." breathed the mortal. _

_"Those you were found in company with, by Rúmil, may very well have fought against Morgoth himself, and it is said that this race is older than even Middle Earth itself." She paused, allowing the woman to ponder her words. "You are also of the Dúnedain/Numenor line my dear."_

_"Dúnedain? The ancients? Those of men with greatly extended life spans?" _

_"Aye. The very ones. Both your parents were of this bloodline. It is from the maternal lineage from whence the Wildeor come. You shall enjoy a great extent of life's grace through this line, my child." _

_Arohtarë sat in shock clutching her chest and finding it difficult to breathe. "Eru be praised...'tis as if I were elf kind…" _

_"Aye, and you shall age just as we do. By the time you reach your first millenia, you will still look much as you do now, my dear. Your eyes will reflect the joys and grieves of an age, but your features shall remain as they now are. Though what I have just passed on to you is the extent of my personal knowledge of these creatures, The joining of our minds when you were a youngling has given me deeper insight into their traits. That and the grace of the Valar. What I have been given is thus..._

_Your skills and strength shall continue to increase well into your hundreds and mayhap into your first millenia, should you be blessed with such life's grace, so beware of these changes. It will show most prominently when you shift, though your human form shall be greatly strengthened as well, to the level of the elves and mayhap beyond. The Wildeor blood will grow more powerful as you age, and you shall become even more of a force to be reckoned with," mused the Lady._

_"Tell me m'lady, am I still considered of mortal station? Shall I die eventually or will I continue onward as your kind?" _

_The Lady thought a moment. "At this time Arohtarë, you are still considered of mortal blood as both races are of the Race of Men. You hold the power to end your life's walk anytime you choose, as you are Dúnedain. This was a gift given that race by the Valar. You also hold the power to fade as well, my child as you have the heart and mind as that of an elf. Bear that in mind. I know you have felt its effects those years ago when the prince visited." _

_She winced at hearing this, as old memories began to pass through her mind. "Aye, I did. Adar pulled me from its grasp, thankfully." _

_"Ah and speaking of your Adar...You have been troubled by thoughts and feelings, that you do not understand as of late, have you not?" _

_Galadriel, as a rule, did not make it a habit of delving into the thoughts of others without cause. Good cause. Seeing the despair this woman was plummeting deep within, she chose to intercept The child's thoughts on this rare occasion. _

_Arohtarë's eyes snapped up in fear, and gazed at the Lady of Light. "Surely you will not say such to Adar! 'Tis disheartening and embarrassing to have such thoughts," she said quietly._

_Galadriel studied her intently then said, "Come my child. 'Tis time you see ..." _

_She rose and took the woman's hand, leading her out of her chambers and into the gardens. They walked down a long path and entered a small courtyard that had a pedestal at its center, a silver pitcher by its side. Galadriel walked to The foot of a Mallorn and sat on a root , perfectly shaped as a seat, reaching her hand to The woman and inviting her to sit by her feet. _

_"Do you hold the courage to walk within my mind?_

_"What will I see?" asked the mortal. _

_"Many things child. Even I cannot tell all of what will transpire." _

_Arohtarë thought for a moment then looked up to the Lady and nodded. Arohtarë stood nervously and moved to The Lady's side. Galadriel moved over a bit to allow the Mortal a place to sit. Galadriel smoothed away several tendrils of the woman's hair away from her temples and placed both her hands on either side of her head._

_At first, Arohtarë saw nothing but her reflection in The elf's eyes staring back, then, like in a tranquil pool, ripples began to form in The Lady's sliver eyes. Arohtarë saw the past of her life before she was even aware of her own existence. She saw great fire and smoke, people hurrying, screaming and falling as Orcs sacked a village. She saw a woman fall to the floor of a small cottage, a great sword thrust through her midsection. She saw a tall robust man, with a bundle in one arm and a sword in his other, as he ran from the cottage, battling a great Uruk running behind him. She watched as the great beast plunged its sword through the back of the man who stumbled but swung behind and killed it. _

_She saw him again, collapsing a short distance away from the burning village, into the tree line. A soft mewling emanated from the bundle in his arms as three great furred creatures circled the fallen man. She saw Rúmil approach one of the great black creatures and pluck a baby from its paws. She saw herself running through the paths of Lórien as a child. She saw Legolas and her father, as they were the year the prince visited. She blushed slightly as she watched herself and the prince at the solstice feast and a fleeting glimpse of their first night together. The scene of her first great battle where she was badly injured grew and faded then showed Legolas pacing feverishly in his Mirkwood chambers and her father sitting by her bedside. _

_The scene swiftly transitioned into visions of the present. A vision of her and her father in a warm embrace, her riding with her unit and taking up her warden training, Shifting once more, the images showed her once again in her father's embrace, but to her shock they were kissing each other passionately. She shrank back in horror and glanced at the Lady; but she didn't flinch. Arohtarë looked back into Galadriel's eyes and, in her mind, saw herself dressed in a long golden gown and robe, standing next to her father once more, attending a binding ceremony. She looked again and realized that it was THEIR ceremony. _

_She gasped again in shock and pulled away from The Lady slightly, as her father turned and kissed her deeply. The imagery continued. She now saw herself dressed in the regalia of a warden; another transition; then she was clad in golden armor and a red cloak draped about her shoulders; a large contingent of elves standing before her. She noted her features and saw that her hair was well past the small of her back and draped almost to the back of her knees. Her hair was pulled back in warrior fashion that denoting high status. Two braids draping either side of her face and one long one at the back. _

_An image of the Golden Wood suddenly appeared and she saw Legolas leaning against her favorite tree, gazing skyward during the night. He seemed older somehow and had longer hair than she remembered. His garb was soiled and worn, as if he had been on a long and difficult journey. She saw a strange contingent of people nearby, including a dwarf, two tall mannish beings and several small childlike beings meandering within a small glade, white tents in the background. A dwarf in the Golden Wood? Unheard of! She thought. _

_The image transitioned again to show a dark fortress, rain pouring down in sheets and a great wall manned by hundreds of elves. She saw Legolas, Haldir and herself standing side by side, in front of the great elven army. Then a scene by a great fireplace came into view, two figures entwined in a lover's embrace, one had long golden hair the other of raven black. The face of the golden haired person she saw, when the couple parted, was not that of Haldir's...It was Legolas...She cried out, grasping the hands of Galadriel tightly and cried. The images in her mind suddenly went dark and Arohtarë fell to her knees. _

_"What you have seen of you and your father shall come to pass Arohtarë. You have already felt such these past months. Though you do not understand why you feel this way. Know that Haldir has begun to feel the same. How things progress is up to the both of you. But, know this, whatever transpires between you shall not be looked upon with distaste or dishonor. You are not of the same blood, and it has been silently expected that this time would come to pass betwixt you. You both have great love for the other and it is now manifesting itself another way. Aye, it may be awkward in the beginning, but you will both work through these difficulties soon enough." _

_Arohtarë was sitting by the Lady's feet, still trying to compose herself. "M'lady, I saw Legolas several times as well..." _

_"Aye. You will indeed see him again someday Arohtarë, in the best and worst of circumstances. 'Tis part of the future, should things transpire as they are meant to." _

_Galadriel rose and reached for Arohtarë's hand. "Come now dear. I believe you have had enough excitement for one day. Let us tend to your wounds properly and then have some lunch before I set you loose to enjoy the last few days of your leave." _

_"Aye. Enjoy...I believe I shall hide the next few days…" They both chuckled, as they returned to the Lady's chambers. _

_Arohtarë walked slowly, shoulders bent, head bowed and with a heavy heart, as she left the Lady and made her way to her talan. As she shuffled along, memories of the past year floated through her mind, trying to recall when and how her thoughts and feelings for Haldir had changed, and what had led her to such a predicament. How in Arda did things end up like this? How could she think of her father in these ways? And he of her? She had not had such intimate and private thoughts about a male since..._

_She squeezed her eyes tightly shut. No. Do not think about him. It will only make matters worse. Opening her eyes, she found that she had somehow arrived at her and Haldir's home. She blinked. How could she even face him, now that she had learned so much? And he had been hiding his feelings from her all of this time. Just as she had from him. _

_Her belly lurched as she began climbing the tall Mallorn. She bowed her head for a moment and took in a deep breath to calm her racing heart. Looking upward, a thought came to her suddenly. I will move out. That was it. I will live away from Haldir for a time. Sort things out. Get a bit of distance between us and from the whole issue in general. _

_Renewed in her resolve, she continued her climb. Besides, she was about to embark upon another three month rotation at the borders. That should give her ample time to mull over the happenings of the past few months and truly see if her feelings for him were solid. If they were, she had no idea what then she would do. _

_Swallowing thickly , and feeling a prickling at the back of her neck; the hairs standing straight up, she lifted herself over the edge of the talan's platform. _

_How lovely. _

_He was waiting for her. _

_Galadriel watched the young woman slowly make her way down the path and out of her private gardens. She continued gazing after her until Arohtarë passed through the gate and turned toward her home._

_Taking a shallow breath, the edhel took the silver pitcher and began walking up the gently winding stair out of the conservatory. Her heart was as heavy as the mortal's. She had not wished to see this moment arrive and despised it even more that she had to be the bearer of such tidings. _

_Though she did tell the child that none, meaning most here in the Golden Wood, would see such a joining as distasteful or dishonorable, she could not vouch for those outside of these borders. Though, few would ever know. As she stepped onto the grassy path at the top of the stairs, she stopped and dropped her gaze to the green carpet beneath her feet, sighing heavily. In her heart, Galadriel knew that the inevitable relationship that was developing between Haldir and Arohtarë was going to be very difficult for the both of them to come to grips with. Not to mention for Rúmil and Orophin. _

_Looking back up the path, Galadriel continued toward her talan, admittedly not wanting to. As she pondered the conversation she and Celeborn would undoubtedly engage in upon her arrival, she felt his presence strongly before her. Glancing up, she saw him making his way down the great stair from their chambers to join her as she approached. _

_She smiled. Apparently, his patience was ebbing. _

_Meleth? You have spoken with Arohtarë?_

_I have._

_They met, he placing a gentle kiss upon her lips, taking her hand in his. He gazed concernedly at his wife, worry creasing his noble brow. They continued on, past their talan and into a small grove of mallorn saplings, and as they silently made their way down the gently winding paths, Galadriel recalled their conversation earlier in the day. _

_"You have foreseen this? Verily, you say such?"_

_She took a breath. "Yes. I have known of this for a yen or more."_

_"Such is not the natural order of things, Galadriel. Unusual as she is, such a circumstance is...unseemly."_

_Galadriel moved to the balcony and cast her gaze over the lands she had presided over with her beloved for thousands of years. "This I know, Celeborn, but tis naught that any of this earth can render unmade. Twill be what it will."_

_She turned to face the tall ellon standing before her, she leaning slightly against the balcony's railing, her arms crossed. _

_Celeborn moved to stand a hand's length in front of her, his hands gently running up and down her arms as he spoke._

_"And what of Haldir? How will he take to being the object of his daughter's most intimate desires? Though they do not share kinship in blood, he has raised her, Galadriel. Surely, this fact alone will render such abhorrent to him."_

_She searched his eyes, trying to speak the words as gently as she could muster. She raised both hands, cupping his face. "Beloved, he holds the same such affections for her in his heart, as she does him." _

_She leaned her head against his chest and felt him draw in a deep, sharp breath and his body tense._

_"Tis time, my love. She approaches. She is greatly troubled by these thoughts and has been so for nigh a sun's time. The moment has come to give her comfort, to tell her of who and what she truly is."_

_Galadriel reached up and kissed Celeborn then caressed his cheek. Before her hand dropped to her side, he captured it and kissed first the palm, then its back. "I shall await the outcome, my jewel."_

_With that Galadriel left the elf-lord standing alone on their balcony, gazing worriedly after his wife._

_Celeborn's smooth and lilt voice rousted her back into the present moment._

_"How does the child now fare, beloved?"_

_Galadriel blinked and turned her attention to her husband, with a soft sigh. _

_"She does not fare well, love. Though, she retains the facade of strength and impassiveness, she hurts terribly."_

_They walked along a bit more in silence, with Celeborn stealing a glance now and again at his wife. Coming to a small bench, the elf-lord led her to it and helped her be seated. Dropping gracefully by her side, and clasping her hand in his, he said, "Twould be expected that such a thing would not sit well with her." _

_He allowed his gaze to fix upon a statue in the distance as he spoke. "What is to become of our Marchwarden, dearest? This will undoubtedly undo him, muddle his wits. For he has yet to realize that Arohtarë feels the same for him." _

_He turned toward her. "He will struggle with his duties and she with hers."_

_She patted his hand. "You know better, Celeborn. They are both made of stronger stuff, than to allow such to transpire. They shall go about their duties as they always have. Both keeping their private lives separate from their civil obligations."_

_She took up his other hand in hers, entwining her fingers with his. _

_"But I do worry for them, nonetheless. To those not privy to their histories, their joining would appear...unseemly, though, the mirror spoke verily. I cannot fathom the Valar, or Eru himself for that matter, delving into such an arrangement without merit, Celeborn."_

_He draped an arm around her and pulled her close, his brow furrowed. She lay her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. _

"_Though seldom does it transpire, you know well of tales of lust amongst our people, my love. Though not unheard of, such behavior is still frowned upon. Though I too, do not disagree that The Holy Ones hold the answers to this vexation, I still worry for their wellbeing in the eyes of our people, and we are forced to wait out the happenings." He snorted lowly. "A task, I am afraid, I will not be proficient at." He dropped his gaze to his wife, lightly squeezing her shoulder. _

_"And you, Galadriel? How shall you fare through this ordeal?"_

_She smiled sadly. "As well as you, my love, and no better. This eve shall prove to be the most difficult of times. The child is beside herself with worry and shame."_

_He drew her nearer. "Then we shall be their comfort. Their rock. As stubborn and proud as they both are, they shall need respite from this burden. Of all things to be thrust upon two people, this equates wholly with the most grievous of calamities."_

_He rose, extending his hand to Galadriel and muttering under his breath, "Who am I to question the workings of Illuvitar..."_

_Galadriel giggled softly as he led her toward their talan, while her mind steadied and focused upon the young woman. The usually calm and composed Mortal was now a bundle of nerves as she prepared to face her father for possibly the last time. From this moment onward their lives, as they knew them, would forever be changed._

_Arohtarë stood pensively at the edge of the talan, looking at the closed door. She could hear her father readying for dinner, his weapons being placed in their respective places, as he moved about his room._

_She leaned her forehead against the warm wood, eyes closed and her hand resting lightly upon the latch. _

_"Eru give me strength for what I am about to embark upon," she whispered as she pressed down on the handle and the door slowly swung open. _

_She stepped into the living area and was relieved to find that Haldir was still busy, now washing in the bathing room. She quickly crossed through the living room and into her own bedchamber, closing the door softly behind her. Dropping heavily onto her bed, she raised a hand to her chest and tried to catch her breath which was coming in short spurts. _

_Valar! You would think that I was poised on the edge of a great battle, for the love of Arda! She thought to herself as she heard the door to the bathing room open. _

_"Arohtarë? Is that you?" Haldir called , as he walked to the center of the living area and into the cooking alcove._

_"Yes, Ada," came the meek reply. _

_"Well then, do I not deserve, at the least, a hug after not seeing you for six moons, child? Come! Show yourself!" he chided in his most authoritative voice but good humoredly, not knowing the nature of events soon to unfold as he beckoned._

_Arohtarë closed her eyes and bit back a sob. "Oh ada!" she whispered to herself as she slowly rose and made her way to the door. She hesitated for a brief moment then pulled it open, and stood stock still in the doorway._

_Haldir was standing, hands on his hips facing her room, a smile gracing his features, which immediately melted into a frown upon seeing his daughter's tear-stained face._

_"Iell?" he whispered, making his way to her, and was totally shocked when she moved back several paces into her darkened room at his approach._

_"Arohtarë? What troubles you, child? Are you injured? Are you not well?"_

_His questions tumbled uncharacteristically from his lips, and the woman drew her hand to her lips, trying to still the sobs escaping, unbidden._

_Haldir stopped in mid-step when he realized that he was the cause of her distress and stared at her in disbelief. Her current behavior was extremely unusual and he had not seen her in such a condition since she had left the Greenwood years ago. Arohtarë did not cry._

_His gut lurched as he looked upon her, his feelings torn, knowing that there was something about his behavior that was causing this reaction from his daughter. But he could not for the life of him figure on what it was._

_"Arohtarë, iell, please, I beg of you , tell me what causes you such pain. Allow me to help if I am able."_

_"You cannot aid me this time, ada. You cannot!" _

_Her eyes danced nervously past his form as she looked for a route around her father to the farthest chair. She skittered quickly past him and then dropped into a chaise against the far side of the talan, curling up like a frightened animal and staring back at him like hunted prey. _

_Haldir's heart nearly broke at the vision before him, bringing back memories of years gone by when he had found her huddled pitifully in that tree as a youngster._

_He approached painfully slowly, eyes locked upon hers, fearing that she would bolt for the door or window before he could find out what troubled her so. He strategically placed himself in a chair that was midway between both the open window and the talan's door, praying that he would not be forced to keep her from escaping their home. _

_Arohtarë watched his every move intently and, the closer he came the tighter she curled herself into the chaise's cushions. Her heart was thundering in her ears and felt as though it would tear through her chest, until he finally dropped into the chair in the center of the room. _

_"Blast you, father! Even in such a situation you weave in battle strategy!" she hissed to herself, seeing that both her routes of escape were now compromised. _

_Escape? She blinked. This was her home! She had always felt safe here. She looked back at Haldir and the tears started again. He had always been her protector. The broken look upon his face tore at her soul, as the tears streamed forth once more. _

_Haldir remained stock still and silent, not wanting to upset her further, and hoping that his passive stance would allow her to trust that he meant no harm. Valar! He meant no harm? He was her father! Her protector! Never, never would he harm her in any way, and here he was doing just that and not knowing what, in the pits of Mordor, he was doing to cause her to hurt._

_He closed his eyes tightly for a moment, chasing that thought from his mind. When he reopened his eyes, she was crying silently again and calling softly to him._

_He rose slowly and approached her, his hands outstretched. At first she recoiled slightly as he drew nearer, but seemed to resign herself to the fact that he was going to continue moving toward her, no matter. He tried to make himself as small as possible, as he crouched by the side of the chair, her eyes following his every move. _

_"Child, speak with me. Tell me of your pain." His voice was soft and soothing, as he cautiously drew his hand to her face and brushed a dampened strand of hair from her cheek. She flinched slightly as his fingers touched flesh, and he immediately drew back a bit, but as she relaxed he continued his ministration. _

_"Know that I would never knowingly hurt you, iell. Know this. My heart breaks to see you such..." and for the first time in her short life, she witnessed tears falling from her father's eyes. This did not make her feel any better. If anything, she felt her heart wrend a bit more._

_Seeing the invincible Haldir, Lorien's Marchwarden, her father and defender against fierce beasts and enemies of the light, brought to his knees by a maiden's tears fully undid her. She flung herself into her father's arms and let the tears come, fully and unbridled._

_Haldir was taken completely by surprise and was caught off balance; both tumbling to the floor. He managed to lean up on his elbows and cradled Arohtarë's head against his shoulder, rocking gently as she poured out her soul. He closed his eyes, holding her head against his chest with one hand and pressing her tightly to him against her back with the other. He was barely aware that she was speaking to him softly, her voice so weak and low that he struggled to hear words in between outbursts of tears._

_"Ada...something is happening...something awful...unseemly!" She burst into sobs once more, her arms grasping even more tightly about his neck. He grimaced as he drew them into a sitting position._

_Her words made little sense but he patiently coaxed her into continuing. "Continue, iell, I am here. I am listening..."_

_She gulped a lungful of air several times before continuing. _

_"I...I have..." she choked, wiping her eyes against his tunic._

_..."Feelings!" she blurted loudly and not meaning to, but she seemed to have lost control of her emotions._

_He hesitated slightly before answering; an unwanted and unbeckoned thought nudging at the back of his mind. _

_"Feelings, Arohtarë ? What kind of...feelings?" _

_The sobbing started again. He rolled his eyes, and drew her closer. He was not used to such behavior and totally unprepared to deal with emotional upheaval of any kind, let alone that of a distraught human female._

_"Come now my sweet, you are safe here. You can speak freely. You know you can trust in me, iell."_

_As he spoke the words, his mind was screaming that if his daughter had been caused this discomfort by an ellon, he would seek out the lad and send him swiftly to Mandos Halls, accusations of kinslaying be damned._

_He felt her nodding her head against his chest in between sniffles._

_"...For an ellon, ada! And I do not know what I shall do! It hurts ada! Badly"_

_Ah. So. It did have to do with an ellon. He stiffened and drew her arms gently from his neck._

_"Who is this ellon that has hurt you? Tell me and I shall remedy the situation immediately!" He looked into her eyes and grimaced, knowing that as soon as he spoke, it was too harsh. _

_Arohtarë immediately broke down into tears again, throwing her full weight back against him. _

_ Sweet Valar!_

_He held her tightly and commenced to rock again. _

_I will kill him...I will kill him..._

_His mind chanted the phrase like a mantra as he felt her fall apart all over again. He settled his mind, allowing her to cry as she might, hoping there would be an answer at the end of all this. So lost in his thoughts that he barely heard what she was saying, so soft was her voice, and raw from crying._

_"The ellon is you, ada..."_

_"Yes, yes, iell, I am your ad..."_

_His speech froze in mid sentence. He looked down upon the crown of her head, her face buried deeply against his tunic. He felt the blood drain from his face and his skin grow clammy, as he broke out into a cold sweat. _

_No! It cannot be!_

_He gently pushed Arohtarë away from him so as to look at her face. _

_"What did you just say young one? What was it that you spoke, child?" His voice cracked and his tongue suddenly became too heavy to speak. _

_"You are that ellon, ada. And I am ashamed..."_

_He coughed as his throat went dry. His eyes held hers for a very long moment and then he slowly drew her head against his shoulder saying, "Oh my child. My dear dear, iell. How I wished you did not need to face this alone." _

_He rested his chin atop her head, stroking her hair._

_"How long have you felt thus, Arohtarë ? How long have you suffered so?"_

_There was a long pause before she answered._

_"Nearly a sun's time, ada. Since last Summer solstice," came her muffled reply._

_His brows shot up. So had it been with him. He felt the first flutterings of unease at the same feast, as he danced with his daughter on the final evening of the celebration. Could it be? What purpose would such a joining serve? He glanced down at the woman huddled against him. She was mortal and he of the Eldar. Surely there was a great mistake being made? He swiftly recalled his thoughts. _

_You stupid elf! Second guess the Valar, will you! Twould serve you right if they struck you down where you now sit!_

_He took a deep breath and pulled away from the woman slightly. Smoothing the hair from her cheeks he cupped her face in his hands and held her gaze firmly. Before he could speak, he saw a glint of knowing pass through her eyes as she gazed uncertainly up at him._

_"You know..."_

_She nodded slightly and bit her lower lip. _

_"But I did not believe it to be true until this morn, when I sat with the Lady."_

_He sighed. The Lady. Of course she would know. There was little that could be hidden from her sight, unless she chose to ignore it herself. His daughter's pain must have been so great that she had felt the need to intervene. Something that Galadriel rarely did. The Lady of Light was not one to pry into the personal affairs of others, without just and good cause._

_She had left him to himself regarding this matter, knowing that he would be better able to deal with such feelings. He balked. _

_But only just, m'lady. Only just..._

_He thought he heard a distant chuckle but shook it off. He returned his attention to Arohtarë . _

_"I too, admit that such feelings came over me at that same time, iell , and I was at a loss as to what to do."_

_She studied his face for a moment._

_"That is why you left so abruptly for the borders with my uncles, shortly thereafter, is it not?"_

_He paused._

_Perceptive little imp..._

_"Yes."_

_"Ah."_

_They sat in silence for a while, she snuggled against him and each pondering the conversation until Haldir broke the silence. _

_"Here..." He rose, extending his hand and aided Arohtarë in standing. _

_"Twould be much more comfortable to continue this discussion over some wine and in a chair."_

_The woman sniffed, wiping a sleeve across her eyes and accepted a goblet of wine passed to her by the elf._

_"Now then, child. Tell me of your awakening and I shall tell you mine. Perhaps then some sense can be made of all that we have been experiencing this past idhrinn."_

_They talked deep into the night and through the dawn, as Arohtarë related all that the Lady had told her, and what she had seen in the mind bond with Galadriel, save the part about her and Legolas rolling about a chaise. _

_When she finished, Haldir was speechless, for a short time anyway. "Three thousand winters of life Arohtarë? Three millenia?" _

_"Mayhap. The Lady could not see past a time but felt that it went further." _

_"Sweet Eru...Ai'!" _

_Shaking his head, he leaned back after pouring another drought of wine, his mind now focused upon his thoughts on their blossoming relationship as lovers. A relationship that he fully believed was ill fated and only a passing infatuation. _

_Arohtarë took up her own fluted glass and sipped quietly, eying her father over its rim. He had closed his eyes and was leaning his head against the back of the chaise, as he absently swirled his drink._

_Her own nervousness had subsided a bit and she was now able to think a bit more clearly. Truthfully, all she wanted to do right now was sleep but that would have to wait a bit longer. Haldir had yet to tell of his feelings. _

_She gazed out the window, watching as the first rays of the morning sun broke over the horizon in the distance. Glancing back at her father, she found him gazing back at her with sad eyes. _

_He leaned forward and placed his goblet on the table in front of them, then turned to face his daughter. He sighed deeply, running his hand over his face and then rubbing his eyes with one hand. Where to begin?_

_Taking her hands in his he spoke softly and with restrained emotion. "I truly believe that this will pass, iell. Verily I say , this will pass." He brushed the hair from her cheek as he spoke. _

_She looked down at their clasped hands, not truly believing the fact that her heart was changing its song for her father as they spoke, from one of child to that of lover. "I do think that me moving away for awhile may be the best thing for the moment ada, just the same," she voiced softly, her eyes lowered. She did not believe her father's words, though he himself did. At least, he made it seem as if he did. He stiffened at her words. Move? Absolutely not. Absurd!_

_"You shall not move from this talan, iell. There is no need and I shall not allow it." _

_She glowered. "You shall not allow it? Ada! I am a grown woman! I should have left on my own with the first rotation I ever joined! I am well past the age of parental coddling!" _

_She stood, smoothing her tunic as she rose. "I have spoken with Branniel . She is...erm...she will be leaving her talan in a few months but wishes a room mate in the meanwhile. I will then take the abode as my own upon her departure." _

_She looked to her father. Flames were glowing behind his silver-gray eyes, as he stood at his full and intimidating height, hands upon his hips, glaring hotly back at her. _

"_You do not trust in my words."_

_The sound of his voice stung her ears as she swallowed thickly. Never had she not believed or trusted her father in anything. Nonetheless, she stood her ground._

"_No," she croaked, ashamed. The feelings were too deep and close to her heart for her to believe this was merely a passing fancy between them. _

"_Very well..." _

_Haldir strode toward his bedchamber, saying without turning , "I expect you shall be gone by the end of the morrow?"_

"_Yes."_

_She watched Haldir stiffen as he grasped the door handle , snorting in disgust as he threw the latch and entered his rooms, closing the door behind him without another word. She gazed after him for a long moment, knowing that she had hurt him dearly. She sank slowly down into the chase, hung her head in her hands and cried._

_Though her sobs were imperceptible to human ears, they were as loud as rain against a metal pail to an elf. Haldir turned upon his side and drew a pillow over his head, trying to dampen the heart wrenching laments. He squeezed his eyes tightly together as he hissed, "It will pass!" through clenched teeth. _

_The next day brought a bustle of activity in the Marchwarden's talan. Haldir had risen well before sunrise, and was gone by the time the first rays of Anor peeked over the horizon. Arohtarë rose to find herself alone and the house silent, until a loud rapping startled her as she tended to her toiletry. Hurrying to finish up, she grabbed her dressing robe, donned it and then answered the door. Branniel, accompanied by several ellyrn, peered back at her through the doorway._

_Giggling, Branniel floated by the mortal saying, "Come! There is much to do and little time in which to do it! Brothers! Here! We must first empty Arohtarë's bedchamber!" _

_Arohtarë' blinked and stood helplessly in the doorway, as the males hurried after their sister and swiftly commenced to disassemble her bedroom. As her bureau was carried past her, Arohtarë padded into her now disheveled room and faced her friend in bewilderment._

"_Er...Branniel..."_

_The elleth turned, smiled, and handed the woman a pile of tunics from her armoir._

"_It is but dawn!" the mortal croaked, as her friend ladened her with even more clothing._

"_Yes! I thought you might wish to get on with it early enough. And..." She turned back to the armoir. "You had promised to take me to the archery fields this morn, afore the guard arrive for daily training."_

_Arohtarë glanced at the clothing in her arms and snorted in irritation, as she recalled her words from several days ere. _

"_Aye, I did..." she breathed in annoyance._

"_Well then!" Branniel chirped cheerfully and put her hands upon her hips, then waived one finger- extended hand at the mortal. "You best get on with it!"_

_The woman growled lowly, and cast a castigating and dangerous glare at her friend, as she took her armload of belongings out the front door. "Dawn indeed," she muttered, half stumbling down the walkway to the talen's edge. From there, she deposited her burden in a basket that was lowered to an ellon waiting below. She then made her way down the trunk and retrieved the clothing at the bottom, following Branniel's youngest brother to her new home._

_By mid-morn, the troupe of movers had completely divested the bedchamber of its furniture, and all of the mortal's personal belongings that had been scattered throughout the talan, having everything in place in Arohtarë's new quarters. The mortal was still at her birth talen, and Branniel knew this was a most difficult time for her, though she did not know the true reason for the woman leaving her lifelong home._

_Arohtarë stood one last time upon the talan that had been the only home she had ever known. She leaned upon the door jamb, arms crossed and head bowed, that being the way Haldir espied her unseen, many paces away from his position on the forest floor. The girl was stubborn and held her ground, he would give her that. _

_He sighed, glancing down at his feet for a moment. Perhaps this was for the best...? He looked back up, in time to see his daughter climb gracefully down the trunk of their Mallorn and swiftly make her way to her friend's flet, now also her own. His brow furrowed, Haldir made his way up to the talan and opened the door. He walked to the center of the room and turned to face the now partially closed door of Arohtarë's former bedroom. He could not bring himself to enter, instead his eyes fell upon the now empty weapon's racks that previously held her bow and quiver harness, her sword and many spare sheaves of arrows. _

"_This cannot be happening..." he whispered to himself, as he sank into the chaise in the center of the living room, squeezing the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. For the first time since the woman had come to him, Haldir was totally alone. _

_An hour or so later, his brothers returned from their duties of the morn and joined their elder in the now half empty talen. Both siblings briefly glanced at Arohtarë's closed door as they entered the living room, then both pairs of eyes rested upon their elder brother, assessing his mood and finding nothing amiss. Neither had dared question Haldir upon the true reason that they had all spent an unscheduled rotation at the borders, after the Solstice Feast, but they had their thoughts. Orophin and Rúmil formed a plan to seek out answers to the unvoiced, unknowing questions. And now that Arohtarë appeared to have moved out, they wondered if perhaps things were not as they seemed._

_Orophin sat in a chair opposite of Haldir and Rúmil sat in front and to the Marchwarden's right. Both sat with bowed heads, waiting for the appropriate moment to break the silence. Haldir was sitting back in the chaise, eyes closed and arms crossed over his chest. _

"_What do you wish?" Haldir's voice startled the two brothers, who snapped their gaze to eye their elder. His voice belied nothing but the slightest weariness and resignation, yet his self-assurity and confidence they were used to hearing from him remained intact._

_Orophin was the first to reply. "We come only to offer support for whatever is transpiring between you and Arohtarë." He glanced at Rúmil who shrugged then turned back to Haldir. "If you wish that we take our leave..."_

"_No! " His voice was firm as he opened his eyes. Then repeated less harshly, "No, you can not give support where none is required. She must find her way, and as all who grow to maturity, she should have her individuality. If you must coddle anyone, I suggest you find an elleth or two. " He sighed heavily and leaned forward in his seat, shuttered eyes veiled his deeper thoughts, though he did not avoid his brothers' inquisitive stares._

_He looked at one, then the other and shook his head, running a hand through his hair then resting his face in his hands. It would not do, to allow them the knowledge of his current turmoil. Sensing their deeper curiosity, he quickly pushed aside his anguish, burying it deep behind a firm wall of resolve. _

"_Have things change between you and your daughter," Rúmil softly said, his prying tone, incited a sharp glare from Orophin. TO inquire such so pointedly usually risked their brother's wrath. But to Orophin's surprise, not this time._

_Haldir lifted his head saying, "Not at all. She is ready to be away from my dictates. Were you not the same when Celeborn fostered you?" He flicked his eyes to where Rúmil lounged sprawled out in the chair nearby. "If I recall, you could not wait to establish your own talan, engage in pursuits away from prying, parental censure."_

_Rúmil suppressed a snort, it was true, he thought with a huff. _

"_To us though, brother, there is more to it than that. From the moment the both of you entered the feast circle, we sensed a shift in both your feär, though, we chose to remain silent. If you had not halted our pursuit of Arohtarë that evening, we would have been able to assist in your troubles, mayhap." Rúmil finished speaking and looked to Orophin to continue._

"_Now it appears that much has transpired, with the passage of time, to widen the rift between you. I fear there is no long much we can render in assistance." Orophin looked to Haldir, waiting patiently until he met his eyes._

_Haldir looked from one to the other and snorted . "Verily, I say that I do not believe how the both of you are being so fanciful. I think you spent much time imbibing on that heady Dorwinion wine, and therefore saw something more in the situation. I believe that Arohtarë and I shared an intense moment, that was it. Nothing to dwell on at all. I am steadfast, life will go on as it always has between us even if she resides among her peers.." He straightened in his seat, his lips pursed. "She may even return before long. You shall see."_

_The two brothers looked at one another, then back at Haldir, who glared back at them in waning certainty. _

"_Haldir, you so easily cast aside what we sensed, these are not simply parental feelings. You cannot tell us that you have not heard the heart songs change? Surely, you must!"_

_With one brow raised, he straightened his shoulders, spine stiffened and replied coolly. "Again, I repeat, there is naught to alarm yourself over. Truly, perhaps it is you who find her departure unsettling?"_

_Both younger brothers fell silent for several moments as Orophin struggled to find the proper words. "Aye, Haldir. Perhaps and I cannot say that I would not feel the same..." Rúmil added, "Or I..."_

"_However, I speak for the both of us when I say we will support the two of you, no matter the outcome of this quandary, without judgment. And...know that should you need us we shall stand unwaveringly by you both." Orophin glanced at Rúmil who nodded in agreement. _

_Haldir dropped his gaze and stared at his feet for a moment before firmly answering. "I appreciate your worry and your support. However, there is no basis for your intervention. This is a certainty, if I have any to do with it. She is my daughter. I, her father. It has always been thus, and so shall it remain. Living apart or together, we will always continue our bond."_

_Again, the two brothers glanced at each other, Rúmil adding in a serious tone, _

"_We take our leave, brother, and should you have need, you know our whereabouts."_

_Haldir nodded his acknowledgment as the two siblings made their exit. He was less certain now about the situation than before his brothers came calling. The need to hide his thoughts and emotions warred with his desire to seek their aid. But he could not and would not allow them the slightest knowledge of the turmoil he was experiencing. He remained steadfast in his thinking, however. He would not resign so easily to these unwanted musings. Arohtarë would return. He was certain. Then they would all see that such romantic notions, deep seated longings were for naught._

_Just as he decided to enter her barren chamber, he sensed a presence lingering outside his door. Rúmil, no doubt, had remained behind and wanted to probe where he was uninvited. Taking a few calming breaths, he schooled his features into an impassive mask and quickly exited the flet._

_As he had known, his brother stood just outside, and he was leaning on the balustrade peering off into the thick tree canopy. _

"_You remain behind? For what purpose?" Haldir prompted._

_Rúmil looked at him, his eyes wide and slightly glowing. It was his way, when he was discomfited to open up, allowing his more sensate being to show. Haldir felt the call to open up his fea, to commune with his brother in such an elemental way. But he remained in control, allowed Rúmil entry into his thoughts where they conversed._

_Reassuring his brother that things were fine, that all was under control was not his only aim. No, instead he had to act quickly, avoid the assault on his hidden feelings._

_Abruptly Rúmil retreated and tipped his head, his eyes flicked to the sky and then downward focusing once again on Haldir. The pupils retracted, the light dulled. He became wholly entrenched within the hroar. "Very well, brother, I see there is nothing with which you want to share, or need to voice for my awareness. I leave you now."_

_Haldir watched as Rúmil bounded down the long bridge, and made his way into the thicket. Then he turned and entered his home once again, trying to avoid that empty room, and utterly powerful silence that assaulted him from all directions. _

_Orophin leaned indolently against the thick base of the mallorn tree, it had always been their retreat, that special place where the three of them would meet up and talk, share, be. Crossing his arms over his chest he watched as Rúmil approached. His brother's light step and calm stride did not hide the rushing thoughts as they tumbled around inside his mind, and Orophin knew they had not achieved what they set out for. "You were not successful then tôr?"_

_Rúmil lifted his chin, met his brother's strained glance and shook his head. "Nothing." With two more lithe steps he came to stand next to Orophin and continued with his findings. "His mind is powerful, you know this, and even with the stealthiest attempt at breaching through his shuttered thoughts, I could yet find nothing. It was if he had not a care to consider, naught but schedules, and training drills for the wardens." Sighing, he looked off into the copse. "I blindly searched within the deepest recesses of his mind, he guards his concerns well. Fortified, and strong there was not even the slightest inkling he suffered from anything. But brother, I know there is something he is keeping from us that causes him great strife."_

_The days of her flight turned to weeks, turned to months, and neither Haldir nor Arohtarë felt any better for the separation. If anything, their thoughts and feelings for each other grew , and with them , so did Haldir's frustration and fury. Arohtarë, on the other hand, did all in her power to avoid her father at all costs. Much of the time she was successful, but on occasion the inevitable occurred. Most of these meetings were unavoidable, as Haldir was her superior and the unit commanders did have to brief and debrief in his presence, now and again. When they did chance on one another, their dispositions were wholly professional and dealt with military matters, with the occasional paternal/youngling conversation as to how each fared._

_With each meeting of his daughter, Haldir realized that he was slowly losing the fight of denouncing the validity of his previous thoughts. That the romantic and intimate feelings he was harboring for his daughter were indeed true. And they were not a passing fancy as he had vehemently defended. He knew that he would not be able to leash these feelings for much longer, and that it would only be a matter of time before he would have to face this glaring fact head on and, Arohtarë herself. _

_That was not a meeting he would relish, for , in the time they had lived apart, she had become distant and cautious around him. But he could no longer live this lie. His heart and very soul were twisting in tortured pain and anguish. And he felt that his daughter fared the same. He had to orchestrate a way in which to bring them both together in a neutral and familiar meeting place, perhaps in tandem with another circumstance that would not readily raise her suspicions. It was time to face the truth that both of their hearts were incessant in their callings. No longer could they deny such from one another either. _

_It had been nearly a full turn of the sun since the woman moved out on her own, when one such return from the borders brought Arohtarë and several other unit commanders to Haldir's council. The debriefing lasted several hours past the noon hour and when it finally adjourned, Haldir requested that Arohtarë alone remain. He had come to the decision that morning that they would meet, face to face, and he would brook no argument from her on the matter. He would find out her feelings for him , if there were any to discuss after all this time. If there were, he would discuss his own. Perhaps then this torture would end._

_Arohtarë stood at attention by her chair until Haldir called her at ease. She shifted nervously as he rounded the table and came to stand before her. Haldir steadily held her gaze and the woman realized that this was not going to be a discussion of a military nature. Rather, she could sense the tension in the air as the Marchwarden marshelled his emotions and stood rigidly before her. _

"_We must speak ." He gestured to her chair, indicating that she should sit, and he pulled out the chair next to her. She hesitated, gripping the back with whitening knuckles. _

"_Do not cause me to order you be seated, lieutenant...", he threatened lowly, gracefully dropping into his seat , his eyes never leaving hers. _

_The mortal swallowed and reluctantly drew out her chair and slowly sank into it. _

"_You know of what I speak, child. We must face this turmoil, once and for all." _

_She dropped her gaze to the table, twisting her hands upon it as she thought of ways to skirt the issue, but her father saw through her defenses._

"_There is no getting round this burden given us, Arohtarë. I must know your true feelings at this time."_

_Anger was welling up within the young woman as she recalled Haldir's words from the year before. How he had belittled her own feelings, casting aside her emotive outpouring as a passing fancy. She slowly raised her head, fury swirling within her emerald depths. _

"_Why? So that you may yet again cast aside my deepest and most intimate thoughts and emotions? So that you can exercise your patronizing demeanor upon me, as you wave away what I truly feel as nothing more than a passing fancy, as you once called them?" _

_She stood slowly, hands fisted upon the table as she bent close to her father's face. Her eyes narrowed and her voice fell low as she hissed, "I think not..." _

_A growl emanated from deep within her throat and Haldir steeled himself for the residual angry onslaught that he knew would follow, his own anger building behind his silver eyes. How dare she speak to her superior in such a manner! He had not given leave to speak off the record as of yet, and could cite her for insubordination. Something he was seriously contemplating at that moment._

_She turned abruptly and began striding briskly to the door of the council chamber when she was stopped in her tracks by two very intimidating sentries. She froze and then slowly turned to face Haldir who remained sitting, a stoic look upon his face. _

"_You would not dare..." she breathed, her hands clenching and unclenching several times. _

"_Oh, but I would...and verily I shall." _

_He stood, smoothed his tunic and adjusted his sword against his side. Leveling his gaze upon her once more he continued._

"_If you have not taken note, you were insubordinate. I had not given rein to your speaking freely. It would behoove you to go along peacefully with the sentries. Or do you wish that I add resisting restraint to your growing list of indiscretions, Lieutenant?"_

_He could feel the fury roll off the woman in waves, as she stood in mired shock and anger at the fact that her own father would do such a thing. Superior or not, he was her father and they were speaking of a subject matter not of a military nature. She inwardly felt that he was overstepping his bounds as a superior commander and was in such a mood as to state such._

"_Father! This was not..."_

_He raised his hand to silence her, and then threw her a scathing glare, the one reserved for his most intolerant enemy. _

"_I am not your father here, Lieutenant. And if you continue your rantings I shall add another fortnight to your confinement." His voice was firm and laced with a hint of anger, but he held his stoic composure._

"_Sentries! Take her to the brig."_

_The soldiers saluted and then each took up a position on either side of the woman. Dropping her head in resignation, she turned and left the chambers under guard. Haldir watched their departure with a pained look upon his face, his heart twisting in his chest. He did not expect this outburst, nor the outcome of this ill fated meeting, but he had to extol his punishment in front of the sentries. He sank back into his chair and rested his head in his hands. Things did not go quite as expected. He groaned._

_The iron door slammed shut with a resounding clang. Arohtarë stood in the cell's center, totally in shock. What ,in holy Valinor had just transpired? Was that not her father that had ordered her to the locks? Her father! She snorted as she sank head in her hands, upon the thin, moldering mattress that was to be her bed for the next fortnight. Captain, she corrected herself. Her superior. She raised her head and looked about. _

_The dampness of the stone cell was heavy as lead in the air, nearly choking her every breath. She was used to the clear , light and clean air of the outside. Moisture trickled down the rough walls and pooled on the stone floor. She watched a tendril of water spread towards her feet and she lifted a booted foot, as the tiny stream passed beneath. She passed her hand over the mattress to discover that it too was damp and musty to her nostrils. How lovely. Well, at least she could find some comfort here, unlike most of her comrades. She was no stranger to caves and confined places. She would fair well enough. She giggled lowly. And the guards had no idea of her makeup. They would be quite surprised, that was a certainty._

_With a resigned sigh, and facing the fact that she was to remain in her new talan for a goodly amount of time, Arohtarë pushed upon the mattress several times before lying upon it and curling up into a comfortable ball. Adar would hear her discord, oh yes. She would see to it. And in a way that he could not spring such a trap upon her again. _

_Trouble? _

_She would cause such. So much so that it would get her out of the locks well before her sentence was played out. Her father had seemingly forgotten her resourcefulness. With that thought, the woman drifted off in slumber, a wicked smile playing upon her lips. _

_Several hours later, a very shaken guard reported to his commander of a strange creature occupying the Marchwarden's daughter's cell. The trouble had begun._

_For an entire week, the reports were the same. During the day, Arohtarë sat serenely within her confines, quietly reading the only book she had been allowed. During the noon hour she was allowed an hour or two strolling within the confined grounds of the brig. But in the evening hours, she was nowhere to be found. Instead, a strange creature occupied her cell, a deep growl emanating with each breath the seemingly sleeping beast took. The brig warden had gone through three guards so far, none wanting the duty of guarding such an oddity. Whenever they entered the cell to check her condition, they found a woman, fast asleep upon the bed. But as soon as they had backed out of the cell, closed the barred door and turned their back, the growling commenced and the beast was seen once more on the mattress._

_Having listened to three guards and their superior pine their woes over the course of the week , Haldir admitted defeat. Albeit silently. Now realizing the game she played and the fact that her time spent in confinement had dulled the edge of her anger, Haldir ordered her released a week early, and to await his arrival at the family lake house, still in the company of the guards. _

_Upon being released, Arohtarë had a sly smirk upon her face as she emerged into the bright sunshine. Her eyes adjusted immediately to the brightness and she focused upon her surroundings. She was out in the common gardens, fresh from her first bath in nearly a fortnight and in crisp clean garments, flanked by two guards. Upon asking the sentries where she was being taken they remained silent, continuing down a winding path towards a large body of water. When they came to a fork in the course, Arohtarë recognized the lake that their family talen was located upon. She had never been down the footpath that the guards had taken her, as she had never come from the direction of the dungeons before. She smiled. _

_The guards escorted her to the foot of the Mallorn in which the talen rested and remained by her side for a short while. Haldir crested a small hill overlooking the lake and scanned the scene before him. It had been several years since he had come to this place and his mind filled with the pleasant memories he had spent here, first with his brothers, then with Arohtarë as a young child. _

_He closed his eyes. Now a beautiful young woman. He breathed in deeply, his nostrils flaring as he took in the floral scents of the meadow flowers now in bloom. He slowly opened his eyes and panned the lake's edge for the whereabouts of Arohtarë and the guards. When he espied them, he silently signaled to the both of them as he descended the hill and hurried into the thick copse surrounding the Mallorn of their talan._

_Arohtarë was a bit surprised as she watched the sentries silently slip from her sides and retreat into the surrounding greenery. Left to her own devices, the woman walked to the edge of the lake and stooped to cup a handful of water to her lips for a cool drink. She stood and gazed out upon the expansion of water, still as a mirror but for the gentle ripple of her disturbance. _

_Her heart no longer held anger against her father as she realized that he did what was in his rights to do. And she deserved it. She had allowed her emotions to get in the way of her duty and her position. Now she only wished that she was not burdened with such feelings towards him. She should have allowed him to speak and now she felt that the moment offered by the Valar had been squandered. All because of her hotheadedness and sharp tongue. She sighed, dropping her gaze to watch a small school of fish pass in front of her in the shallow. If she could only find a way to reconcile with him. He must be seething, having received report after report of her mischief making. And embarrassed. She snickered. Oh she was incorrigible. She again looked out upon the lake, losing herself in memories of her childhood, when life was much simpler and the ignorance of childhood shrouded her in its protection. _

_He stood so close to her, yet far enough back that she could not yet sense his presence. He wished the allowance of a few moments of respite, before facing that which tore at them both. To gaze upon her in a natural peace. For one moment he looked at her, let his eyes take in the sight of her unbound onyx hair swaying at her back, just below her hips. The urge to reach out, take those tresses in his hands and bring them to his face, inhaling her scent, imprinting it into his mind overwhelmed, and he turned abruptly, whirling away from her and casting his gaze across the sun dappled water ._

_Sensing a shift in the energy around her, Arohtarë slowly turned her head to find Haldir standing close, facing partly away from her, looking across the water as she had. The breath hitched in her throat; realization dawning as to the true purpose of her having been brought here. Haldir had come to grips with his emotions, or, at least, was willing to face them. Suddenly, she knew there was no longer a need for words. No discussion, no decisions needing to be made. She dropped her gaze and drew in a deep breath. Would this be the time? The moment she had been both dreading and yearning for? _

_She took a step toward him then hesitated. Was this truly what she wanted? Could she face those finding this relationship unseemly? Taboo? Could she face her uncles? Elbereth! His brothers! She closed her eyes, shaking the thoughts from her mind. Opening her eyes, she took another step. Yes...Yes, she could. Her heart spoke so clearly, and with such purity of intentions, that she could not dismiss it as duplicity. She looked up and took in the magnificent form of the elf that had taken her from cradle to adulthood. Oh yes. She wanted this. More than life itself. _

_She approached, her steps soft and light, but he felt so intuned to her that the even tread of her foot impinged upon his thoughts. Her fingers touched his arm, lightly at first and then gripping tightly. The dexterity of her archer's hand was not lost on him. Leaning against him, she tipped her forehead against his shoulder. And he suddenly wanted more, oh so much more. _

_He wanted to be with her in ways he could never before imagine. Standing rigid, unmoving, he pressed his lips together and fought to keep his composure. Until she spoke, her sweet voice broke the silence and ripped through his steely resolve like a flaming arrow. Once rent, he could no longer leash the warring emotions coursing through him. She spoke again, this time the single word hit him with such force, he could only see a black rage. _

_"Ada," she whispered._

_And he flung himself away, oh Valar, he had to move to get far away. But she tightened her grip and held on, beseeching him to look at her. _

_"Ada, please?"_

_And then he snapped, whirled to face her. _

_"That word, I cannot bear to hear it come from your sweet lips."_

_At arms length her held her, gripped her shoulders, warring with the overwhelming desire to pull her to him, seal her body to his and yet, she was his daughter and he must not even think such things. She reached out, put her palm on his cheek, cupping it in the warmth of her touch. And he leaned in, smelling her fresh skin, taking note of the rushing pulse in her wrist. Her fingers trembled and the pad of her thumb stroked a soothing cadence along the edge of his jaw. And then he did the unthinkable, turned into the softness of her hand and pressed his lips into the center of her palm. She gasped, the touch so base, so utterly erotic, yet she did not pull away._

_And finally, when he closed the distance, brought her near and slanted his head a mere breath away from hers, he felt desire lance through him as she parted her lips and murmured, "Haldir I want this too." _

_He was lost then, wrapping his arms around her, he touched his mouth to hers and then kissed her, a raging, intense passion that belied his need for her and stoked the fires of her growing desire for him._

_She leaned against his chest, as she had countless times ere as a child seeking comfort from a parent, but this time it was very different indeed. This day, she sought comfort of a different sort. She pressed both hands against his chest and then slowly curled them around Haldir's shoulders up under his arms, molding herself tightly to his frame as the kiss deepened. _

_Haldir smoothly moved the both of them against the trunk of the talan's mallorn, turning so that he leaned his back against it. Arohtarë leaned her full weight against him as he fully wrapped his arms around her. Slowly, the couple slid down the trunk and into the tall swaying grasses at the tree's foot, out of sight of prying eyes. Still entwined in their embrace and locked in the kiss, he rolled them both so that she was beneath him. He was trembling with both passion and nervousness, two emotions nearly foreign to him, as he raised himself upon his elbows and gazed into her eyes._

"_Forgive me , Arohtarë. Valor forgive me and my we..." The woman placed two fingers upon his lips, quieting his speech. _

"_There is no need...We have lived with this that we have called a burden, instead of allowing our hearts to sing of their own accord. Let them sing, Haldir. Let them sing..."_

_Haldir closed his eyes, clearly still wrestling with his inner demons as he called them. This was madness, madness! She was his daughter! The inner voice screamed, but at the same time it felt right. Very right. He could not deny this deepening feeling any longer and Arohtarë seemed to have made peace with her own inner turmoil. He slowly opened his eyes and was met with simmering deep green pools, swirling, feral , and wild. She truly desired this. It was unmistakable that she was offering herself wholly and without rein. But he had to hear it from her own lips. He would not rest easy until he did so._

_She gazed up at him, watching as this invincible warrior struggled with something that was unknown to him, something that he had little control over restraining. That lack of control gnawed at him, she knew. She caressed his face gently, waiting patiently for his response, and knowing without a doubt what his response would be. Even if he did not. She smiled and waited._

_As her fingers lightly outlined his jaw, Haldir felt his blood begin to simmer hotly, and could feel its rush to his belly, his groin. Dropping his lips close to her ear he nearly growled, "Are you certain of this path you choose, meleth? Verily, I ask if you are certain?"_

_Arohtarë took a deep and ragged breath, the pounding of her own heart, thundering in her ears. _

"_Aye, Haldir. I am certain. For too long this has lay uneasy and dormant within my soul. Give me what I yearn for..." she whispered lowly, claiming his lips as he descended upon them. _

_Shifting to his knees, he unclasped his cloak with one hand and deftly swung it off his shoulders and off to their sides. He drew the woman up to him and then placed the cloak beneath her. As she sat before him, he undid the clasp to her cloak and made several folds of it, then placed it beneath her head. _

_She ran her hands over his chest, tentatively at first then with boldness. She had never known him in this way and only now realized his true power and strength. He was magnificent in all ways. Whom she had looked up to all of her life, for guidance, comfort and protection, she now added security and support among these qualities. And love. Not that of parent and child, but of husband and wife. She ran a finger down the clasps of his tunic, releasing each as she went until his naked chest was bared before her. Haldir sucked in a fractured breath as she moved her hands over divested flesh, across his shoulders and down to his waist within the shirt covering. She tugged gently upon the fabric, pulling the hem from the black sash, allowing it to now hang free._

_She pushed against his chest, and Haldir knelt up as she followed him up into a kneeling position and drew the tunic off of his shoulders, allowing it to drop from his back. She next moved to the sash, but Haldir stilled her hands, taking both in his and kissed them hungrily, his eyes never leaving her face. He lowered her hands and then undid the sash's tie, pulling it from his waist. He was now naked from the waist up, only his boots and leggings remaining._

_Arohtarë gazed longingly at the perfect male filling her sight. Without taking her eyes from him, she began to undo her own clasps, but Haldir stilled her hands once again. Slowly, he undid each fastening as she remained upon her knees facing him, planting a kiss behind each as every inch of flesh was revealed to him. As he moved toward her belly, he left a blushing trail from her breastbone to her navel. The woman closed her eyes upon feeling the elf's hot lips upon her skin, marveling at the deeply erotic sensations this simple act elicited from her. _

_His hands slid to her hips, resting in the nip of her curves, drawing her closer as he raised his head to capture her lips in a searing kiss. Her breath hitched in her throat at the touch of his mouth upon hers and she grasped both sides of his face, pushing her long fingers into his platinum locks. He felt her breath against his lips as he sipped at her mouth, then lightly traced his tongue along the curves of her lips before dipping within. She yielded to his delving, parting her lips a little more, capturing his tongue with her own in a deeply erotic dance._

_An uncontrolled moan left her throat as Haldir pulled her tightly against his chest. She felt his heart beating like thunder against her breastbone and felt the steeled muscles work against her soft, firm breasts. Her desire was growing swiftly and Haldir could literally feel her body temperature steadily rise. Matched degree by degree with his own. Suddenly, there was far too much fabric between them and he tugged restlessly at Arohtarë's partially open tunic. They broke the kiss, he grasping the opening and drawing it over her shoulders and down her arms, exposing her own beautifully muscled frame to his gaze. _

_For the very first time, Haldir was gifted with a most magnificent view of this woman he had raised from a babe, marveling at her mature and unusual physique, only now realizing the power and strength the woman possessed. He needed to see more. Much more and he reached for the sash, deftly undoing the tie with one hand and drawing it from her waist. Arohtarë rested her hands against his shoulders as he continued to disrobe her, her eyes following his every movement. Once the sash was released, Haldir reached for the tunic now pooled at her waist and drew it away, then rested a hand against her cheek and pulling her into another deep and passionate kiss, all the while slowly laying her back until she was prone beneath him once more._

_Parting from the kiss , he gazed longingly down upon the woman, trying to form a coherent thought, knowing there was something of importance he had wanted to speak to her, but could not for the life of him, recall what it was. He smoothed her hair away from her face, as she gazed back up at him expectantly. In that instant, he did not see the child he had raised. That image faded and the father/daughter bond passed into recessed memory. She was a woman. The woman that was about to become his life's mate, no matter that she was of the Children of Man. _

_In the blur of an instant he had given over to the song of his heart, the hum of his soul reaching for that of the beauty beneath him. And hers sang longingly for his. He could no longer control the urges boiling to the surface. He breathed deeply, drawing his hands down to her waist and began untying the laces of her leggings, quickly separating the material and pulling them past her hips and down her legs. She lifted her hips slightly, allowing him to draw them off and when he returned to hovering above her, she moved to undo his. He stilled her hands, nervousness suddenly filling his belly as his eyes took in the fully nude form of her body. His reaction to the sight was swift and instantaneous and he became self conscious of his rising passion. Residual thoughts of her as his daughter lingering near the forefront of his mind. _

_Though his heart screamed the truth, his mind needed a logical closure to their previous life together. He bent down to kiss her lightly then, slowly, he took his mouth from hers, and lay back, drawing her up and pulling her with him so that she lay atop his chest. "Tell me, Arohtarë," he whispered hoarsely, his arms moving restlessly across her back, "Do you mean to take me as your beloved? Your husband?" _

_With her own passion nearing overflowing, Arohtarë took in several ragged and swift breaths as she looked down upon the elf soon to be made her mate. His body was warm, his arms so strong, His breath caressed her skin as he asked his question, and she let herself melt into him. "Yes...I did mean to do just this..." She raised her head to look down at him, wanting to speak her desire, her willingness, but she was too overwhelmed by the sight and feel of him. "For nigh a sun's time have I desired such..." _

_She dipped down to kiss him, teasing his lips and tickling him into a passioned frenzy. He slid his hands down her sides, drawing them to cup her bottom and pressed her into his hips as she spoke. The heat was maddeningly sensual against his groin, fanning his already boiling blood. Valar, he would not be able to take this much longer. _

"_Make me your wife, Haldir...and I shall take you as my husband this day..." She took his lips greedily, delving deeply into his mouth, twining her tongue around his, he grinding his hips wantonly against hers with each probe of her deep kiss. _

_His mind was barren of thought, save the pending joining and even that was a ghost of a figment. He could not open his eyes if he wanted to, as this woman was holding his sanity by a thread. All he could envision was being buried deeply within this near goddess in his eyes, taking her as his own, for all eternity. His hands began a frenzied path of tracings over her back, down her spine and over her bottom, cupping, squeezing, pressing until he was unable to sate his passion any long by such actions. _

_Swiftly, he rolled them until she was beneath him once more, dropping a knee between her now heated and moist thighs, settling his hips, his erection heavy against her lower belly. Arohtarë squirmed in anticipation and feral rapture. Her eyes darkened and her irises transformed eerily into thin black slits, surrounded by golden orbs. Never had her passion been rousted in this way, not even with Legolas. _

_The name floated transparently through her mind. Who? The thought faded and she became aware only of the male above her, now guiding himself into her entrance. Her eyes slid closed and she tightened her jaw, a slow hiss of air passing through clenched teeth. At last..._

"_Take me, Haldir! Take me now!" she fervently insisted, as she threw back her head, exposing delicate softness of her neck to the passionate elf above her. He slid into her with one firm stroke and dropped his lips to the hollow of her throat as he rested against her, not moving, savoring the heat enveloping him._

_A moan of relief and need erupted from the woman's lips as she arched up to welcome the fullness of his member to its hilt. His moan of pleasure reached her ears as he settled in as far as he was able. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over her as she clamped strongly around the glorious invasion. There was no turning back. The bonding had begun. Haldir would be hers. _

_As these thoughts swirled in her mind, Haldir began to move within her; slow even strokes that brought multiple levels of pleasure to both of them very quickly. Haldir wanted this moment to last as long as possible. He trailed soft kisses against her neck and throat as he raised up slightly and began a rhythmic back and forth motion, matched by upward thrusts from Arohtarë. Their rhythm reached a peaked frenzy, and soon their motions were a blur of grasping hands and grinding bodies as they rocked to and fro in perfect syncronicity. The great want of joining had subsided for the moment, and they could remain this way for a long time, sated with the comfort of merely being joined. _

_But soon, much sooner than they would have liked, they felt the urgency return, simmering at first, then making its presence fiercely known in the throughs of their lovemaking. He thrust twice more before the pressure became too much and he stilled his actions, prolonging the inevitable. Arohtarë grew close, so close to her final pleasure that she was taken to the edge of frustration at the cessation of movement, and literally growled her displeasure, thrusting her hips roughly against his. _

_Haldir opened his eyes in surprise, at hearing the feral vocalization rise through his passion induced fog, that now claimed his usually ordered and logical mind. As he thought to speak the word "patience" he felt her shudder violently beneath him and nearly lift from the ground in wanton ecstasy, as she tumbled over the edge taking him with her. Involuntarily, he reached his release in a volley of white hot heat and rhapsody. Both spoke their vows as they entered into their release, Haldir collapsing into her shoulder as she pulled him tightly against her, her legs wrapped like steel cables about his waist. Her body convulsed violently as she clamped around him and, in great surprise, he reached his release a second time. _

_Valar!_

_Not wishing to leave her without, he drew his arm under the small of her back, tilting her hips up at an angle, and began to drive with long steady thrusts. Arohtarë clenched the cloak beneath her, taking up fistfuls of earth under the fabric, as she felt the pinnacle of her pleasure begin to descend upon her. Looking up she found herself gazing into silver eyes that were literally glowing with passionate rapture, willing her to take her pleasure. _

_As she began to fist tightly around him and cry out her satisfaction, Haldir thrust deeply once more uttering breathlessly, "Mine! Mine alone!", as she called out his name; her voice muffled against his shoulder. _

_After a very long pause, the fierce and intense moments of the joining passed, supplanted by a more languid and sated pleasure. Haldir slowly withdrew from her and lowered himself to lie by Arohtarë's side, gathering her into his arms, as she pillowed her head into the dip of his shoulder. _

_His fingers danced though her hair with one hand as the other traced circles upon the small of her back. She rubbed her cheek against his skin, cuddling tighter against him, mumbling something incoherent as she drifted into slumber. He snickered and drew the pillowed cloak from beneath her head, and draped it over the both of them. He turned his head, kissing her forehead and whispered, "Take your rest, my daughter-wife, for a new life awaits us come the dawn." _

_He smoothed the hair away from her heated brow and drew her closer, resting his cheek atop her head. Much awaited them both but, for now, they would enjoy the newness of their bonding away from base judgment and the prying eyes of others. This was their time and nothing was going to disturb this moment. With that as his last thought before he let sleep claim him, Haldir smiled, truly smiled, and was filled with a most profound joy that he had never experienced before in his life. Finally the answers he sought for a sun were his. This was right. His life was complete. At last. _

_Later that year, and shortly after her 25th birthday, Arohtarë and Haldir were bound in a quiet ceremony attended by the Lord, Lady, his brothers and her best friend Branniel and her new husband._


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer...which essentially means nothing... I own none of that which is Tolkien's. Only my original characters and the various scenes and timelines I have developed.

Text that is in italics are flashbacks.

Text that is in bold italics is conversation taking place in the minds of characters speaking with each other.

Please, read, review, comment. It means a lot to me, as your feedback not only tells me if my material is something that you all like, it also helps me to understand where I can do better in my own original fantasy/fiction that I also write. Enjoy.

Legolas made his way through the deserted halls and down to the Armory in silence. His mind consumed by thoughts of this mysterious but frustratingly familiar woman. What struck him dumb was the fact that she didn't even shed a tear over the loss of her husband. Was that cold steely glance she had given him, before the battle had begun, the true essence of her being? If so how could Haldir have withstood it all these years? Or was her humor and good spirits a shroud, hiding great pain over her loss of him? He wasn't sure but he felt that, from the shrieks she sent up upon his death, there was a terrible grief seated deeply within her soul. A dangerous situation if she were an elf. But she was not.

One thing he had learned about mortals was the fact that they were extremely resilient, and seemed to survive the most grievous of hurts. Both physical and emotional. Her eyes were unreadable as far as her husband was concerned. He silently opened the door to the fellowship's quarters and slipped into his bed. He had not rested in many days and felt the need creep heavily upon him this night. The battle had taken its toll, even on him. He eased down into the blankets and unfocused his eyes, falling into an elvish slumber, memories of the story he had told Aragorn floating in his mind and passing into his dreams.

_**Guard Trials**_

_The days seemed to quickly turn to weeks and soon the summer months passed away. Craban and Legolas spent as much time as they could with each other. Her skills had improved tenfold through the constant vigil of Legolas, whose hands were full getting around her stubbornness. By the time the week arrived for the Mirkwood envoy to leave, she was ready for her guard tests. Haldir was amazed that she had progressed so far in such a short time, and reluctantly admitted to himself that the prince was a greater influence upon her than he. At the same time, Haldir was pleased that she had found such happiness but was concerned about how she would fare, once the prince left for his homeland. It would be many years, if ever, before the prince would return to the golden wood. It would be even longer before he would ever approve of a trip to Mirkwood for his daughter._

_"You are much improved, iell," called Haldir, as Craban buried a perfect shot into the farthest target. Legolas was smiling like a Cheshire cat at the Marchwarden's praise. _

_"Thank you Ada. I have had a wonderful teacher," she quipped, planting a kiss on Haldir's cheek. _

_"What? And I am not?" he said, feigning hurt. _

_She rolled her eyes and sighed loudly. The two elves chuckled as she loaded her bow again and planted the next shot right beside the first. _

_"Valar! Well done!" said Haldir with raised brow, glancing at the prince. _

_She giggled._

_"Will you be able to stay until the guard trials are over, Legolas?" _

_The prince glanced at Haldir then back to Craban._

_"I shall make every effort to do so lirimier," he told her, lightly kissing her cheek. _

_"They begin on the morrow and shall continue for five days hence. I can arrange to send a Lórien contingent with the bulk of your dignitaries, and then have a guard unit escort you and your remaining guards to Mirkwood." _

_"That would be acceptable, m'lord. I would not miss this for anything," said the prince winking at Craban. _

_That evening, Craban and Legolas made their way to the secluded pool and waterfall. They sat beneath a small stand of mallyrn, leaning against a small trunk, gazing out over the mirrored surface in front of them._

_"I am going to miss you something terrible, Legolas," she said quietly, as she lay against his chest._

_"And I you meleth. I have come to care for you more than any elleth I have ever met." He turned her to face him, kissing her tenderly. _

_"I wish I could go with you to Mirkwood, but Ada would not hear of it."_

_"And with good reason, lirimier. You are too young yet and have not traveled such a long distance before. 'Tis very dangerous." _

_She sighed. "How shall I ever be able to travel long distances if I do not start somewhere?" _

_He chuckled. "You wish to do everything as soon as possible do you not? You have many years yet ahead of you Craban. I am sure that in time you will visit me in my homeland." _

_"Aye, and by that time you will have been married with many children…" _

_He laughed out loud at this, drawing her closer and kissing the top of her head. _

_"I do not think you need to worry about that, meleth, as I have no intention of giving my heart that easily!" _

_She giggled. They remained at the pool for several hours when the woman began to yawn._

_"Come, meleth, you have a very long day ahead and you shall need your rest. I shall walk you to your talan."_

_"I suppose," she said, reluctantly rising and taking his hand. _

_He held her close by his side, arm securely around her shoulder as they walked. _

_When they reached her home, he turned her to him and said, "We have several more days together, lirimier, though I feel you will be quite exhausted most of the time. Let us take one day at a time and focus on you passing your trials. That is the more important thing." _

_"Aye, I suppose you are correct. I did not even think I would be taking them so soon." She paused a moment then leveled her gaze upon the elf, feigning disdain and laying both hands upon her hips. He quirked a brow at her change in posture and demeanor._

_She wagged a finger at him as her eyes narrowed. "See? 'Tis all your fault that I must suffer so much this week and forfeit time with you, silly elf!" she said, smacking his arm, as he laughed at her statement. _

_"Ah, but you shall be a guard so much sooner and then you will be able to travel to Mirkwood." _

_She blinked and looked at the prince, in surprise. _

_"Are you ever wrong, hmm? Ever?" _

_Pause._

_"Once, about a millennia ago…" _

_"Sweet Eru…" she muttered, rolling her eyes. _

_"Good eve, my prince. I shall meet you here in the morn." _

_"Aye Craban. Early," he said, kissing her passionately. _

_"Careful elf…do that once more and I shall be going nowhere but to your chambers this eve," she said wickedly. _

_He looked at her just as wickedly, reached out and kissed her with even more passion._

_"Challenge me will you?" _

_She grabbed his hand and started down the path to his quarters. He dug in his heels and pulled her back laughing. _

_"Not this eve, meleth, though you tempt me sorely. You need to be fresh for the morn." _

_"I wish to be fresh this eve instead," she told him, pulling him down and giving him a passionate kiss of her own. _

_"Go. Now," he said firmly, turning her toward her talan and nudging her forward. _

_"All my hard earned training upon your head shall not be feted away due to a night of passion!" he called after her. _

_She giggled and climbed to her talan. _

_The next day started very early and before dawn. The morning star had not yet faded, as the candidates took to the training fields. The first trial was in hand to hand combat skills, first bare handed then with a myriad of small arms. Before she was called out, Legolas and Haldir were giving her final instructions and encouragement. As she turned to leave and take her place among the other candidates, Legolas drew her to him for one final embrace. As his eyes met hers, he was stunned to see her usual bright and mirthful green eyes turned dark and moss green, holding a cold, almost murderous glare within._

_"Meleth?" he questioned, as he hugged her to himself. _

_Haldir put his hand on the prince's shoulder and motioned for him to let her go. The Marchwarden knowing full well what the young prince was seeing. As they parted, she nodded curtly at the prince and turned fluidly on her heel, to join her comrades._

_Legolas looked at the Marchwarden with bewilderment, disbelief and a little fear. _

_"What in Arda?…" he started to say. _

_"She prepares for battle Legolas. 'Tis the blood lust you have chanced to see," replied Haldir calmly, as they walked over to the group of onlookers gathered at the edge of the field. _

_"Ai'! Tis only trials, m'lord. Not outright warfare!" _

_Haldir stopped in mid-step. _

_"Not for her, mellon. She has waited all her life, since she was a babe of seven winters, for these trials. 'Tis indeed war in her mind. She is determined to become a guard and a warden someday." _

_"Aye, Haldir, but she looks to bring death upon her opponents, with a look as I have only seen on the true field of battle."_

_"If need be, prince. Such has happened in the past at these qualifications. She will not fail any of her trials mellon, rest assured," replied Haldir somberly, taking his seat._

_They watched as she took to the field with an opponent nearly her height and as broad in the shoulders as Haldir himself. A slight smirk curled over the Marchwarden's face as he noted the match up. _

_"He does not stand a chance prince," he whispered to Legolas, as the ellon met the dirt, face first. _

_Legolas looked on with awe as the ellon was taken from the field unconscious, his nose bleeding profusely. The surrounding candidates nervously moved out of the way of the healers, as they carted the unfortunate elf to the healing halls. Craban was still standing in the center of her ring, waiting for the judges to choose another opponent. This time she faced a very tall, broad shouldered elf, much stronger than the first. The prince and Marchwarden looked on in concern, as Craban looked the Elf up and down with great confidence. _

_"She cannot possibly win this match, Haldir!" exclaimed Legolas._

_"Watch mellon…" was his only reply._

_As her opponent lunged for her, Craban ducked and reached out for the ellon's waist, spinning him over her hip and throwing him to the ground, hard onto his back. He let out a sharp gasp as he hit the dirt, unable to fend off her assault from above. She grasped his throat in one hand, and had her legs locked around his, securely pinning him in place. The main judge broke them up, and when the ellon did not rise, the healers were once again summoned. Though the elf was conscious, it was clear that he was in great pain. _

_They all found out later that he suffered several broken ribs from hitting the ground so hard. Again, the small crowd of candidates moved uneasily out of the way of the bier, taking the second of three opponents from the mortal's ring. Her next and final opponent turned out to be much better skilled and gave her a run for her money. Legolas and Haldir winced as both combatants connected simultaneously with each other's jaw, as the sparring match escalated. _

_Blood was running down both their faces as they squared off for their final assaults upon each other. Neither could gain ground and the match was called as a draw. Both combatants shook hands graciously and left the ring on good terms. She was summoned to the judge's table and handed a parchment and medal, indicating she had passed this phase of testing. There was to be a two-hour break before the small arms sparring was to begin, and both elves made their way swiftly to where Craban was standing. She was spitting out blood and wiping her mouth and nose on the sleeve of her tunic, when Haldir came up to her side, Legolas on the other. _

_"Let me see, iell," said the Marchwarden, turning her bloodied face to his. _

_"Ai', Ada! 'Tis nothing! I still have all my teeth!" she winced, as he ran his fingers along her jaw line. _

_"Ai', teeth yes, and a broken jaw," he said moving to the bridge of her nose. _

_She winced again as he ran his fingers along each side. _

_"Ada!" she squeaked, slapping his hand away lightly. _

_"Good. Only bloodied. 'Tis not broken." _

_"Yet. The day is still young Ada…" she giggled, catching the expression on Legolas's face. He had a most serious look upon it. "Why do you look so dour Legolas? I am not injured badly." _

_Haldir looked up to see the prince's expression and knew what he was thinking. Legolas took her face gently in his hands and looked her features over carefully. _

_"'Tis painful to watch lirimier, as I know your fair features and these lips…" he traced his thumb lightly over them, careful of several splits gracing the bottom one, "…well…" He moved to kiss her but she redirected him to the right side of her face before he connected. _

_"Kiss me here instead meleth," she giggled softly, as he looked at her sadly and obliged. _

_Haldir cleared his throat and said, "Come, iell. Let us take down some of that swelling. Mayhap we can get some lunch at the same time." _

_The three made their way to Haldir's talan where he tended to his daughter's injuries. _

_"You have done quite well Craban, though you had us a bit nervous with that second brute," quipped Haldir. _

_Legolas chuckled. "T'was amazing how hard he fell…" said the prince admiringly. _

_"He moved too slowly," she said, between delicate bites, wincing all the while. _

_"You must guard against any more blows to the face young one. Your jaw cannot take any further injury." _

_"Neither can her lips…" quipped the prince sadly. _

_She eyed the young elf, smiling. "Aye, Ada. Now with small arms, I do not fear it as much. Still…I shall be wary."_

_"Always be wary, meleth. Never underestimate your enemy. Never let down your guard. Never," said the prince in all seriousness._

_"Aye, Legolas, I shall take all said into account." _

_The horn sounded for the next half of the trials to begin, so the trio hurried back out to the fields. Craban did very well in this phase as well and was given her medal and parchment. Trials were over for the day and they made their way back to their talan for dinner. Haldir ran a bath for Craban, who was heard to groan loudly as she sank into the hot soothing water._

_The two elves relaxed with some wine in the living room waiting for her. _

_"She fought well m'lord. I am quite impressed. She did not do so with such fierceness while we trained," said the prince, sipping his wine. _

_"She did not wish to hurt you, mellon, and held back much." _

_Legolas peered incredulously over his goblet at Haldir. _

_"She did not wish to injure me? Come now, Marchwarden, she is but a girl! Very highly skilled, I give her that, but a mortal and a girl at that. I never felt in peril at her hands, and I have bested her often." _

_Haldir gazed at the prince, knowing full well that he would not know of her hidden gifts. Nor did he wish him to know. _

_"Hearken to me, Legolas, when I say such. Trust me. Do not chance to anger her or fight her on the wrong side of the battlefield to find out her true strengths." _

_Legolas raised his brow and stared at Haldir in bewilderment. _

_That night, Craban and Legolas spent the night in his talan. He was deeply disturbed by the sight of her body. She had deep purple colored bruises all over her torso, from her breastbone to her belly, up her arms and down both legs. Her hands were swollen and raw, not to mention her broken jaw and split lip. He sighed, looking down at the sleeping woman in his arms. Still she insisted in spending the night together. He was adverse to the idea, feeling that her injuries were too serious and that she would need all her strength for the morrow, but she was stubbornly hell-bent on her intentions. _

_"I do not wish to let one moment pass if we can spend it together," she insisted. _

_Tomorrow would test her skill with sword and blade and he cringed at the thought. Thankfully they would be using training weapons, but even they could cause a good amount of damage, even death in several known instances. He passed his hand down the side of her arm in a caress, hoping she would fare as well as she did this day. _

_Legolas had filled the bath the next morning, hoping to sooth Craban's pain wracked body, and help her relax before she took to the fields. He heard her stirring in the bedchamber, groans being muffled by the pillows. He smiled sadly as he walked into the room and found her curled in one of the bed's corners, head deeply burrowed within a large pillow. _

_"Meleth, I have a bath running for you. You will feel much better after you soak a bit." _

_He sat on the bed's edge and began massaging her back. Her groans turned to moans of delight, as his strong and nimble fingers undid great bundles of knotted muscles in her shoulders, back and neck. He was careful to avoid the bruised areas, which was a difficult feat, as they covered half her body._

_"Just think lirimier, only three more days after today and you shall be a guard." _

_He snickered hearing her revert back to deep groans. _

_"Aye, if I survive," she said, gingerly turning over to face the elf. _

_"After today there will be no more combat. Three days of archery and you shall be finished," he said, kissing her cheek. _

_She looked at her arms and hands, groaning once more. _

_"I can hardly hold a hairbrush Legolas, let alone a longbow. Look at me!" she squeaked, turning her hands over and gazing at her arms. "Arrgghhh! And today I have a whole day of swords and blades!" _

_He chuckled, holding her against his chest. "You best soak for a bit then hiril-nîn. You have only an hour or so to dally," he said, kissing the top of her head._

_Indeed, the day was just as long and difficult as the first. The first half of the day consisted of long sword fighting. The rest would be long sword and assorted bladed weapons. She had taken several sharp blows to her upper arms, one to her left leg, and was as bloodied as the rest of her comrades, by the time the two-hour break was sounded. She had sent two more combatants to the healing halls, and most of the competitors were getting nervous about facing the Marchwarden's daughter. Celeborn thought he was revisiting the trials of almost four millennia past, as Haldir had done the same to his opponents so many winters ere. He could literally see Haldir in her fighting style. She was very much her father's daughter, assuredly. As Haldir and Legolas stood wincing, when Craban took another blow and dealt out one of her own, Celeborn came and joined them. _

_"Well Haldir, it appears that your retirement may be sooner on the horizon than you may have expected," he said, slapping the Marchwarden on the back. _

_Haldir gave the Lord an impassive look then a slight smile. "Aye. She does well," he replied proudly. _

_"And you Legolas…how do you think she fares?" _

_The prince was focused upon the mortal coming off of the field towards them. _

_"Truly, I believe that she shall be one of Lórien's finest guards. At this time though, I think she fares poorly, judging by the way she limps," he said quietly, making his way towards the woman. _

_Haldir and Celeborn watched bemused, as he went to her side and she steadfastly refused his assistance coming off of the field. _

_"Stubborn and proud she is," voiced the Lord, giving Haldir a sidewise glance before bursting out in laughter. _

_Haldir raised a brow and scowled slightly, turning his gaze back upon his daughter. _

_"If you will excuse me m'lord, I will need to patch up iell-nîn before the second horn sounds." _

_The Lord waved him off, still chuckling to himself. _

_Haldir ran another bath as Legolas waited in the next room. Craban had changed into a robe and dragged herself into the bathing room. _

_"Iell, you are almost through the worst of it. Stay focused and do not give up. You are doing very well and I am proud of you. Take this time to rest and regain your strength. I shall have something for you to eat and will tend your wounds when you are finished with your bath," he told her, as she kissed his cheek. _

_As he left the room, he grimaced as she groaned loudly while sinking once again into the soothing mineral bath. _

_Legolas looked up upon hearing her moans. _

_"Sweet Eru… Now I know why my Adar was so nervous when I tested for the Guard…" voiced Legolas, glancing towards the bathing room as more groans floated out. "I did not realize at the time that we beat each other so badly." _

_"Aye. Legolas. T'was the same with my Adar. Seeing her taking such punishment makes me cringe. Yet, she is holding up remarkably well, do you not think?" he asked the prince. _

_Legolas looked at Haldir with a somber look upon his face. _

_"Aye, she does, but I am not." _

_Haldir laughed. _

_"I pray there is something of her left by the end of this," said the prince wearily, as Haldir offered him a goblet of wine. _

_"There will be, rest assured. Battered and bruised a bit, but whole for the most part," he said as he looked at the young elf. _

_"It tears at my heart as well mellon. Not only to see the trials take their toll upon her, but the fact that 'tis yet another step she takes from my grasp," he said wistfully, as he sipped his wine. _

_"You raised her well Haldir. She loves you dearly and will remain close, I assure you. I have seen her love and admiration for you, throughout my stay here. All should have children that show such love for a parent. Outside of her outward appearance, she is as an elf to the soul. She will not leave your side mellon, even when wed." _

_Haldir's eyes snapped to the prince and he cringed._

_"Ai'! Please…do not mention that word in my presence…" he quipped, tossing back the rest of his wine. _

_Legolas burst out in laughter just as Craban emerged from her room. _

_"You are well lirimier?" asked Legolas, helping her to the couch. She gave him a look of disdain. _

_"I have been better, silly elf…" she murmured, wincing as she sat down. _

_Legolas stifled a chuckle and turned away. _

_"Let me see the wounds, iell," said Haldir, coming to her side. _

_She dropped the shoulders of her now bloodied robe to reveal two gaping wounds on her left arm, and lifted her hem to reveal yet another bloodied gash on her left leg. _

_"By the Valar!" exclaimed Legolas, coming around to look at them. "And they are using training swords?" _

_Haldir just smirked and continued cleaning, stitching and wrapping her arm. _

_"Aye Legolas, but it is the force with which they are being used that draws blood," he said quietly. _

_"You should have seen my other two opponents…" quipped Craban proudly between grimaces, as Haldir cleaned, stitched and wrapped her leg wound. _

_Legolas gazed at the woman and smiled. _

_"I did…" and laughed._

_At the end of the day, Craban collected yet another set of medals and parchments, well on her way to becoming a guard. The morrow turned out to be a surprise to all. Seeing the ferocity with which the candidates were performing, the judges deemed it wise to allow a day of rest before the archery tests._

_"I shall take her with me Haldir, if 'tis permitted," said Legolas, arm around a visibly weary and pain wracked Craban. _

_"Aye Legolas, 'tis allowed. She has left my hands when it comes to you mellon-nîn. I have no say in the matter nor does she need my permission to see or be with you. I trust you shall care for her well." _

_"Aye I shall," he said, glancing at the exhausted woman standing next to him, leaning heavily against his shoulder. _

_"Come meleth, I shall draw a soothing bath for you," he whispered, as he slowly turned them down the path to his chambers. _

_He had food brought up to his rooms and, after a bath and dinner, he led her to the bed and tucked her in. _

_"Idh meleth - Rest love. We shall talk in the morn," he told her, kissing her tenderly and pulling the covers around her shoulders. _

_Surprisingly she gave no resistance. I She must be extremely worn to not put up a fight... /I he thought with a smile, as he turned down the torches and joined her in bed. _

_As she slept, Legolas took her hands and arms and began massaging them. It would be imperative that they not stiffen or cause pain while she drew the heavy Lórien bow. She would be shooting three days straight and could not afford to be in pain or cramped. Between he and Haldir, she had indeed become an accomplished archer. With a few more years under her and the guidance of her father, she would be a force to be reckoned with, in all aspects of combat skills. He sighed. Where would he be during these years? Would they ever see each other again after this summer? He shook his head, pushing such thoughts from his mind, focusing upon the tasks at hand. Only time would tell their fates. Finishing his ministrations he lay by her side, drawing her into his arms and settling into an elvish slumber._

_The next day Craban slept well into the morning and awoke just before mid-day. Legolas was busy planning a quiet day for the two of them, by their favorite pool and waterfall. There would be little rigorous activity this day if he could help it. Craban stirred, as she heard the door open and close, as Legolas entered his rooms. _

_"Maer aur hiril-nîn meleth - Good morn my lady love. How do you fare this morn?" he whispered, kissing her lips. _

_"Ai'! I ache in places I did not know could pain me, Legolas," she groaned, as she rolled over to look at him. _

_He laughed, taking her in his arms. _

_"Well then, I should say that another bath might do you well. Then a walk to the pool and some lunch in the sunshine. You can sleep more there," he told her, rising and going to the bathing room. _

_She held onto his hand, preventing him from moving forward. _

_"I do not wish a bath, Legolas." _

_He peered down at her, brow raised. _

_"What then do you wish, lirimier?" _

_She motioned for him to sit back down, and upon doing so, slowly drew him down to her. _

_"You…" she said softly, pulling him into a kiss._

_The next two days were as a blur. Craban qualified to make it into the advanced marksman trials to be held the next day. She now had two of the three coveted archery medals to her credit. Neither Haldir nor Legolas would have thought she would advance to the highest of the archery tests, as just making the first level was quite the feat, and would have guaranteed her a guard's position. She was adamant about continuing as far as she could, and Haldir was not going to hold her back. This advancement bewildered and pleased the both of them to say the least. _

_The final day of trials arrived and, though Craban didn't hold the highest scores, she qualified with flying colors. She nearly did cartwheels down the archery alley when she split three arrows in a row, nigh center on the furthest target. As she stepped up to receive her third and final archery medal, the crowd burst into cheers and clapping, as she was the only mortal, male or female, to ever have tested and secured a guard position. She turned a deep crimson and tried to scurry off the platform as fast as she could. Her father and Legolas held onto her and kept her right where she was until the cheers ceased. _

_That evening there was a feast and ceremony held in honor of the new guards, who would be indoctrinated into the Galadhrim. Usually, the unit commanders would bestow the rank upon new guardians, but seeing that Haldir was her father, he would do the honors with Craban. That, in and of itself was an honor, as the Captain of the Guard would rarely bestow such upon a common rank. She tried futilely to talk him out of it, wanting to be treated just like all the others, but he stubbornly refused to hear such. _

_As she stepped out of the ranks and approached her father, who was standing with the Lord and Lady, Legolas couldn't help but feel a tug at his heart, seeing her joy at finally reaching such a milestone in her young life. It was also causing a deep pain for him as well, as he was to depart for Mirkwood in two days. As Haldir draped the light blue cloak of the Lórien Guard around her shoulders, he leapt up and led the cheers, as Haldir turned her to face the crowd. _

_Once all had been ranked, the troops dispersed to join friends and loved ones in the festivities. The music began and Legolas offered his hand to Craban._

_Haldir kissed her cheek saying, " You have made me proud, iell. You have a long career ahead of you and I pray that you will fare well." _

_"Thank you Ada, with you by my side, how can I fail?" she giggled, kissing him back. _

_"Go. Dance with your prince," he whispered, nudging her towards Legolas, waiting behind her. _

_She walked into his open arms, pressing against his chest, as he led her through the dance. _

_"I am proud of you, meleth. You do not realize what you have accomplished, lirimier." _

_She looked up at him, smiling. _

_"I accomplished keeping you here for another week, did I not?" _

_He smiled but masked the sadness behind it. _

_"Aye, so you did, meleth…so you did…" he breathed, kissing her head, as they gracefully floated across the floor. _

Deep into the night, Arohtarë awoke to the din of battle. Over and over again, the scene of Haldir's fall played out through her mind. Never had she been plagued by such nightmares, in all her years of warfare. Usually, images came and went, never lingering. She sat up holding her chest, trying to catch her breath. She was damp from the cold sweat clinging to her body and thin shift, chilling her to the bone. The fire had died to glowing embers, so she got up and stoked the flames, sitting on the chaise and reveling in the warmth. She was alone. Very alone. Never had she felt this way.

Always she had been with him; strong arms always near, always comforting. Whenever she had felt uneasy or something caused her unrest, always she could curl against his chest and drift off in safety and comfort, he speaking that elvish chant that always put her at ease, and chased the darkness from her mind. Now, she had no comfort, no joy, and no love to warm her. Only the fire. Heat it provided but the comfort of touch it did not. She was yearning for that touch now and it was killing her slowly, knowing that it was forever gone from her reach. She needed open space, air. She needed a cold, harsh wind, tearing into her. Its pain and discomfort might quell that which burned incessantly in her heart right now. She drew a heavy velvet robe, given to her by Éowyn, from the back of the chaise and donned it. She made her way to the chamber door, opened it and peered into the hall. Deserted. Like her soul. Silently she stepped out into the hall and made her way towards the battlements above.

Legolas, tears in his eyes from the memories of Craban, was gently startled awake by a soft pattering past the door. He saw a shadow flit by in the dimness of the light coming under it. Silently, he made his way to the door and quietly opened it. He saw nothing, but felt a presence had been nearby. Silently, he stepped into the hall and closed the door behind him. There was an opening at the end of the hall, leading to the battlements, so he followed it until he came to its end. Seeing nothing, he was about to turn away and head in the other direction, when a nearly imperceptible sound drifted to his elven ears on the wind. A slight snapping of fabric. There was someone here but where? He peered into the darkness and was barely able to make out a tall figure, leaning against the far battlement, facing east. A long cloak blowing in the bitter wind.

Legolas stepped out onto the stone walkway and silently made his way towards the figure. When the person turned to face him, he stopped in mid-step upon seeing whom it was. Her eyes were glowing brightly in the darkness. His breath caught in his throat at the fiery gaze. He cleared his throat.

"Apologies m'lady, for I did not know it was you whom I followed."

She gazed at him silently, not moving.

Perplexed by this behavior, he then asked, " Lady Arohtarë, why do you seek the bitterness of the cold when you have a great fire in your chambers?"

He subtly looked the woman up and down, for any indication that she might be hurt, when his eyes rested on her feet, noticing that they were bare.

He slowly took a step towards her, eyes fixed upon her steadily, not wanting to make her uncomfortable, but also wanting to assure himself that she was well. A deep feral growl began to emanate from her throat and stopped him in mid-step.

"M'lady?" he gasped in a whisper.

"Legolas!"

A sharp whisper permeated the air, as Aragorn called out to the elf. Legolas turned in surprise to face the warrior, standing in the pale glow of the entryway. He hadn't heard his approach.

"Tolo mellon, tolo! Quickly! - Come friend, come!"

The ranger stepped out onto the battlements and took the elf by the arm, leading him into the hallway. They both turned back to watch a most bewildering transformation occur right before their eyes.

Arohtarë's tall form suddenly appeared to drop low to the ground and disappear into the blackness. Or so it seemed. Suddenly, two fiery green eyes, with no apparent form behind them, glared out at the two warriors watching from the entryway. A consistent low growl emanating from behind them with each breath.

"Sweet Eru Aragorn! What is happening? Where is Arohtarë?" asked the now terrified and confused elf, in a stifled whisper.

Aragorn turned the elf to face him, a grave look upon his rugged features.

"You are fortunate mellon-nîn, for you know not the peril you faced. That…" He gestured to the green eyes, still peering out of the darkness at them, "…is Arohtarë mellon. She carries great pain and anger Legolas, and 'tis best to leave her be. Come. She will be in no harm. Contrarily, any to chance upon her this eve would forfeit themselves their lives."

He turned the elf back down the hall that they had come. Legolas looked over his shoulder once more, before reluctantly following Aragorn back to their quarters.

The next morning, Aragorn expected Legolas to come to him with many questions but, instead, the elf had risen quite early and hadn't been seen since. He worried that Arohtarë would be having a certain Mirkwood elf for a visitor this morn and he would be correct.

Legolas was feeling uneasy, as he made his way to Arohtarë's quarters. He stood in front of her door for a moment, uncertain if he should even be there. Before he could make up his mind, he jumped slightly, as a familiar voice was heard coming from within.

"Legolas of the Northern Realm. Why stand like a post at my door? Enter for pity's sake!" the voice said with a laugh.

He gazed at the closed door, numb and unable to lift a finger. What in Arda was he going to find on the other side? He shuddered to think about it, as he gingerly reached for the latch. Before his hand touched the handle, the door swung open, and Arohtarë was standing in front of him, long hair loose and unbraided, and clad in a long silver sleeping gown, a heavy velvet robe over her shoulders. He just stood and stared, dumbfounded.

"By the Valar!" she quipped brightly, as she grabbed his wrist and pulled him through the threshold, closing the door at the same time.

"My dear elf, pray what, in the name of Eru, were you doing standing frozen at my door at such an early hour?"

"I..." he started to stammer but she waved him off.

"Really!" she said chuckling, as she led him to the chaise where a tray of food was perched.

"Have you eaten, Legolas?" she asked, gesturing to the tray.

"Nay. I am not hungry, m'lady," he replied softly, catching her gaze. She tilted her head at him quizzically, noting uncertainty in his eyes and ….fear.

"Mellon? What ails you, for 'tis most unusual to see such quandary in the eyes of an Elda."

She gestured for Legolas to sit, which he did.

"What happened on the battlements last eve, m'lady, for I was told I was in grave danger in your presence?" he said ever so softly, his gaze piercing.

She clenched her teeth. I Blast! He should not have seen such. Not now. What exactly did he see though, for I was well hidden by the night? Even from elven eyes, /I she thought.

"Of what do you speak, Legolas?"

He looked at her incredulously. How could she not know?

"You know well of what I speak. Your eyes glowed and were of the same as whence I chanced to see them when Haldir fell. The likes of a great cat."

Ah. Good. He saw only the eyes. "Aye. Mine eyes are of uniqueness to be sure. And they do glow. Forgive me if they frightened you."

"T'was not all that did so, m'lady, for I was warned of my impending death, should I have tarried longer in your presence."

She fell silent. She would not have harmed him. Frightened him mayhap, but not harm. She had wanted solitude that was all. He had unknowingly intruded upon her tranquility and she was in no mood for company. She was always aware of her surroundings and those in her presence.

"How can two tiny glowing eyes harm such a great and powerful warrior such as yourself young prince? Rest assured, no harm would have befallen you."

"'Tis not what Aragorn has said. Mayhap, I shall believe your words however," he said, a flash of anger in his eyes, upon not getting any satisfactory answers, as to what in Eru really happened out there. Still he pressed her.

"You were not yourself m'lady, and not just your eyes." He turned his piercing gaze upon her, mercilessly this time.

She calmly gazed back at him, unfazed by his stare.

"Speak as you wish, there is naught more to say on the subject," she said quietly, taking a bit of fruit from the tray and eating it.

"Are you sure you will not join me for breakfast?"

"Aye, m'lady, I am quite sure," he said, rising stiffly, and making ready to depart. "I take my leave. Good day, m'lady."

He bowed slightly, and made for the door.

As he opened it, she called softly, "Wait."

He turned slowly to face her.

"There is much young lord that you do not understand nor know. You are confused and, mayhap, hurt that answers are not easily being given. Aragorn, Haldir and I have known each other for many years and we know each other better than you can dare imagine. You cannot expect for me to give you the story of my life, when I have only just met you. Please, do not be angered with me, as I have too much of that in my soul already. I would chance not to speak that which I might regret in your presence while in this state."

She rose from the chaise and moved towards him. Taking his hand she continued.

'"T'would be best for us to speak when there is nothing to interfere with our conversation. I will tell you someday a bit about myself, and you can do the same if you are so inclined. For now, I would ask that you not speak with me of these things that have since transpired. All will be revealed in time, if the Fates allow."

He just stared at her blankly for a moment then walked her back to sit beside her on the chaise.

"M'lady..." he began.

She interrupted.

"Arohtarë, Legolas. I am Arohtarë."

"Aye, Arohtarë."

He bowed his head in thought for a moment. Looking back up he said," Aye 'tis confusing, to say the least, but I shall honor your wishes. I would like very much to learn more about you. There is …" He paused. "…much similarity to one I had known long ago." She hid her gaze from him as he spoke. He bowed his head slightly then quickly said, "I, in turn will be more than pleased to tell you about myself as well, if you wish."

"Agreed. I am sure there will be moments of peace where one can converse without interruptions. I have decided to stay with you and Aragorn, and not return to Lórien just yet. We shall have time, young prince."

Legolas's heart swelled a bit with joy at learning that she would remain with them.

"Have you told Aragorn of your decision?"

"Nay, as I was to do so just as you cast shadow upon my door," she said with a laugh.

"Shall we go then or do you wish to change into your tunic and accoutrements, presently?"

"Nay. I shall go like this. I am too tired to change and fuss with weaponry this early in the morn," she chuckled.

They made their way to Legolas's quarters where Aragorn and Gimli had just risen.

"Well you two are up with the chickens!" quipped Gimli, as they walked through the door.

Aragorn looked at Arohtarë quizzically, but she just smiled slightly and shook her head subtly in the negative. He seemed to breathe a sigh of relief at that gesture.

"M'lady, a pleasure," said Aragorn, kissing her hand. "To what do we owe this honor?"

"I have come to state that I shall be staying on with you, and not returning to Lórien for now." Aragorn's eyes lit up upon hearing the news.

"Truly?"

She nodded.

"'Tis certainly good news Arohtarë. I wanted so much for you to stay."

He guided her from Legolas's arm and led her to the far end of the chamber.

"I am worried about you hiril-nîn. I did not think it wise to leave you to yourself last eve, knowing how you are feeling. I am pleased that you have decided to come with us. Twill allow me to keep watch over you while you grieve."

She looked at him with indignation, which quickly softened upon hearing his next words.

"Arohtarë, please, even you need comfort and protection on occasion. You have suffered a great loss and even you do not know how it will fully affect you. Last eve has shown that the grief is deep. Mayhap deeper than you know. You are susceptible to fading Arohtarë, you know this. You cannot fight it alone and live.

T'would be better for an old friend and…" he nodded in Legolas's direction, "…a new and compassionate one, to aid you in your healing. You need the company of Elves hiril-nîn, you know this. Legolas can help you there. He wants to help you. Heed my words and allow him to do so."

She thought a moment, glancing quickly at the elf conversing with Gimli.

"The pain is indeed deep Aragorn, deeper than I would ever have expected it to be. It is sucking the life out of me. When I am not frightening the poor princeling out of his wits, he does bring me comfort by his presence." She paused and absently added very softly, " He always did…"

Aragorn chuckled at her last statement, then looked up in bewilderment, catching her softly spoken words.

I What did she say? /I He was shaken from his thoughts by her voice.

"How could you tell him he would have been harmed by me, mellon? Honestly!"

"He very well could have been, hiril-nîn, for I have seen such happen to others, with you before."

"Aye, but I did so with good reason. You know full well that I am in full grasp of my wits, Aragorn, while so disposed. The elf had nothing to fear from such. I only meant to frighten, nothing more."

"That you did hiril, that you did," he said chuckling loud enough to catch the attention of the elf. "He knows nothing other than your eyes?"

"Aye. And so it shall remain for as long as it can be shrouded from him," she said quickly, as Legolas walked towards them.

Aragorn kissed her lightly on her cheek giving her a quizzical look, and gave her hand to Legolas.

"Shall I take you back to your quarters m'lady?"

"Aye good prince. I think 'tis time to change and start the day's grim task in earnest," she voiced softly.

She was speaking of burying the dead, as they all bowed their heads in silence for a moment. Seeing that there would be no time, or enough of an escort to accompany the elven dead back to Lórien, her task would be to ensure that all elven warriors were cared for in the proper manner of their kind. She would also personally attend to the burial rites of Haldir. They walked in silence back to her quarters, her arm on his. He was looking ahead while she studied his face, unnoticed. He was much younger than Haldir and of a slighter build, but no less muscular. He had always moved with graceful, fluid motions, seeming to glide over the earth as he walked.

He had a gentleness about him that had always put her at ease, regardless as to how heavy her heart was. She could not carry a sad thought in her head when she was in his presence it seemed. She smiled, as she thought how wonderful it was to finally have him back by her side after all this time. She tightened her grip ever so slightly on the elf's arm, which didn't go unnoticed. He gazed across at her, noting the soft smile playing upon her lips. He turned back to look ahead once more; smiling to himself, content to know that she was feeling comfortable in his company.

It took the greater part of the day to portage the dead from the battlements to the green fields, for burial below, and all were exhausted at the end of it. Tomorrow they would finish their grim work and prepare to return to Edoras. All of the elves had been interred, including Haldir, and Arohtarë was looking to head for her chambers and keep to herself until the evening meal. All could see the great fatigue cloud her fair features, and the fact that she remained eerily silent, from the moment the Marchwarden was laid to rest, to the moment Legolas brought her to her chamber door. All told, this was three quarters of the day.

Upon reaching her chambers, Arohtarë turned to Legolas and silently kissed his cheek, nodding her thanks, before entering her rooms and closing the door. He stared at the closed door for a few moments, shook his head and made his way to his quarters.

She did not join them for dinner that evening, and this concerned both Aragorn and Legolas greatly. Having to meet with Théoden to discuss the march back to Edoras, he was unable to seek her out himself, which he wanted to do desperately. Legolas assured him the he would attend to the lady in question and find how she fared. Aragorn rose from the table and clapped the elf on the shoulder in thanks as he hurried off to meet the king. Legolas wandered the halls, and places that she had been known to frequent, with little success, for over an hour, when he espied her on a secluded balcony near the Outer Hornburg wall. She was sitting on a stone bench, hands in her lap, head back, and eyes closed. She could find the most secluded places! he thought, a bit annoyed at how long the hunt had taken. Upon him barely entering the walkway, she opened her eyes slowly and turned her unfocused gaze in his direction.

He just smiled and shook his head, wondering how she did it.

"May I sit with you?"

"Aye Elda," she said in barely a whisper.

They sat side by side in silence for a moment then he asked, "Are you well Arohtarë? You have not spoken well nigh most of the day, until just now, and you have been shrouded from our sight for hours."

She said nothing for some time, continuing to gaze out at the starlit night, as Legolas waited patiently by her side. A strange draining feeling began creeping through his heart as he sat there waiting. It took him a moment to realize that it was not something of his own that he felt, but that it originated from the woman by his side. He tried to understand what this strangeness was, as he had never felt such in his life.

"I am tired, Legolas, that is all."

Her low voice startled him a bit, as he gazed at the raven-haired beauty looking back at him. Her eyes were now dark, sunken and empty, the glittering green flames he had seen, upon her entering the Helm, gone. She appeared chilled and her skin had taken on a gray pallor. Her ashened appearance greatly concerned him.

"Shall I walk you to your chambers then? I can stoke the fire for you if you wish, as you appear to be quite chilled."

"Aye, Legolas. That might be for the best," she said wearily.

He helped her to her feet and slowly led her to her rooms. As they crossed the great feasting hall, Aragorn chanced to see them and caught Legolas's eye. The elf gave him a look, indicating that all was not well, and then shook his head slightly in the negative. Aragorn's face grimaced with concern, as he glanced at the woman on the elf's arm. He shot a glance into the meeting room, where Théoden was conversing with his aides, and looked back at Legolas, shaking his head, indicating that he was still indisposed. Legolas nodded in understanding. Aragorn knew that she would be well cared for in the elf's company.

In her chambers, Legolas led her to the chaise, by the fireplace. Once she was situated, he went about stoking and lighting the fire. Stepping back, he watched the flames swell and billow, as the logs finally caught. He turned to look at Arohtarë who sat still as the dead, in silence. He sat by her side and thought for some time before speaking.

"Would you like me to stay this eve and keep your company hiril-nîn? You should not be alone this night."

She slowly looked up at him, a slight smile upon her face. "T'would not wish to bebother you with my turmoil, fair one."

"'Tis no burden Arohtarë, rest assured. I have great concern that you are not well," he said taking her hand in his. It was as if ice.

"Sweet Eru…" he breathed, as he took her other hand in his and felt the same.

He put his hands to the sides of her arms. She was freezing.

"Come Arohtarë, move closer to the fire. You are in need of greater warmth."

He moved the chaise closer to the fireplace, then went to the bed and took her heavy robe from its foot. He drew it around her shoulders and then sat by her side, taking her hands in his once more.

As the room warmed, Legolas noticed that the woman began to gain some color back into her features. Even her hands began to warm in his. He breathed a silent sigh of relief, when she looked up at him and he could see the green of her eyes returning. By the Valar…a small death she has caused me, he thought, as he rubbed her hands in his to hasten their warming. As he did so, he noted familiar light pink lines crossing over the backs of her hands and along her forearms. His brow furrowed at their sight, and his confused look was evident when he looked back into her eyes. He let the thought pass.

"May I bring you something to eat or drink hiril-nîn? You did not join us for dinner and I am concerned, as you have not eaten this day."

She sighed and looked up. "I feel no hunger prince, but there is a small bottle of elvish fruit wine on the chamber table."

He frowned slightly with raised brow, and tilted his head in disapproval.

"One cannot imbibe with spirits without nourishment all the day hiril-nîn." He gently squeezed her hands as he spoke.

"Ai' Legolas! Aright! I shall have some fruit from the table there, to still your heart," she said weakly.

"Nay. That shall not do. I will return presently with meat of bone and greens." She chuckled softly, seeing the look of concern on his face. He drew her gaze to him and studied her intently.

"Promise no wondering about until my return? I do not wish to chance you upon the battlements again this frigid eve."

"Aye adar-nîn - my father, I promise. No wandering. You shall find me as I am, upon your return," she giggled, fist across her chest and bowing slightly. He grinned at the word 'adar' and chuckled lightly at her bow.

"Good. I would expect such."

He rose, kissing her lightly on the cheek, and exited her chambers. She turned back staring at the mesmerizing flames. Her mind began to wander back to her life in Lórien, back to her childhood, back to when her life was at peace. She was brought out of her thoughts by the swift return of Legolas, who had secured a small tray of food.

"I trust this shall suffice, hiril-nîn?" he said, placing the tray on a small table in front of the chaise.

"Twill more than suffice, Legolas. Thank you. You really did not need to trouble yourself on my account."

"'Tis no trouble Arohtarë. You must eat. We shall have a long ride ahead of us in the morn. You must keep up your strength," he told her, holding her hand.

"You fuss too much over me, young prince, but your company and concern is most welcome and appreciated."

She took some food from the tray and began to eat.

"Will you have a bit with me? I do not care to eat in the sight of another who does not."

"Aye. If it pleases you," he said, taking a piece of meat from the tray.

"Please, bring us that bottle of fruited wine and two goblets. Twill bring us a bit of warmth to the soul," she said with a smile.

He smiled back at her, rose, and brought the wine to the table, pouring it into the two goblets.

He passed her one and then raised his in a toast.

"To healing and peace, m'lady."

She looked at him sadly.

"Aye. To healing and peace my friend," she said softly, returning the toast and taking a sip.

She peered over her cup at the elf, studying his face for a moment.

"Mayhap you would like to ask me something, mellon?"

Her voice and the question took him by surprise. He remained silent for a moment before speaking.

"I am uncertain if this is the proper time, hiril-nîn, as I do not wish to cause discomfort by my conversation."

She put her cup down on the table and took one of his hands.

"Mellon, time is not on our side. There may be no further opportunity like the present, to speak with each other in this way. Only the Valar know of our fates. Please, there is nothing you can say or ask that could heighten the pain already in my heart."

He gazed at her green eyes, seeing the slightest flicker of peace settle within. It was the first time since she arrived that it was present in her gaze.

He chose his words carefully. "You have lived your entire life in Lórien, Arohtarë?"

"Aye. Since my birth. My parents were killed in an Orc raid the day after I was born. Our village was not very far from Lórien. My father was found dead, by Haldir's brother, Rumil, on the outskirts of Lórien's northern borders. My father knew that if he could make it that far, I would survive." She paused, sensing that he wanted to ask her something else.

"Who was it that took you in?"

"The Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn cared for me for the first several months of my arrival, until an elf family, willing to adopt a mortal child, was found."

"So you truly were raised as an elf?"

"Truly. I am as you in culture, only mortal and lacking in the basic qualities born to your kind. I can climb, run, and fight, as you do, but I lack the elvish level of hearing, eyesight and strength."

She paused, wondering if she should clarify her traits. She looked at him quickly.

"The traits of hearing, sight and strength, are enhanced otherwise and have allowed me to be able to enjoy life, as close to being elvish as a mortal can become."

The elf raised his brow at this, wondering what she meant.

"You are as one of my own kin, Arohtarë, and this is fascinating to me. I have never seen such from one of the Race of Man. For you to have attained the rank of Captain and Warden in the Lórien Guard, as a mortal, is unprecedented."

"Aye. 'Tis true I wager. I have been blessed with such abilities, by the grace of the Valar, t'would seem."

She glanced at him sideways with a giggle. Legolas felt that there was much that she was not divulging and he could respect that. After all, they had only met several days hence. Or had they? She was still quite mysterious to him and he was trying to hold his curiosity so as not to hurt, disrespect, or offend her in any way.

"You wish to know how I came to know Haldir, aye?"

Her question shocked him. She was ready to speak of her beloved?

"Eventually Arohtarë, mayhap, but not so soon, if it causes uneasiness."

"Nay, mayhap t'would be good medicine to speak about it," she said, repositioning herself on the chaise.

"Aragorn has told me you were married."

"Aye."

"Do you mind my asking your age, hiril-nîn?"

She giggled. "Nay. I care not of my age being known. I have seen 165 winters, mellon."

Legolas stared blankly at her. She didn't look a day out of her early twenties. She noted his disbelief and chuckled.

"Arohtarë, you do not…"

"…appear so?" she finished for him. He nodded. "Nay I do not but, truth be told, I am."

He studied her for a moment then knitted his brow.

"What do you not tell me, for I feel you have baited my curiosity purposefully?" he said, arms now crossed over his chest, and his brow rose in feigned annoyance.

She laughed. "You are quite sharp!"

She reached for her wine goblet and took a sip. "I am of the Dúnedain, Legolas. One of the last in the line of their descendants."

He looked at her in astonishment. "You are of Aragorn's blood?"

"Aye, even Aragorn is not of full blooded Dúnedain, though he will be blessed with a lifetime three times that of normal men, should he survive this war."

Legolas looked down, lost in thought and amazement.

"Then you too, are graced with extended mortal life."

"Aye. And many times that of Aragorn and his kin."

He looked up at that, arching his eyebrows quizzically. Her green eyes sparkled at him, waiting for his next question that she knew was on the tip of his tongue.

"To what length of life's grace have you been granted, hiril-nîn?"

Ah. There it was.

"Should I survive this war and life's calamities, my natural life's grace shall be well past 3,000 years."

He held his hand to his chest. _Sweet Eru….! Nigh the lifespan of an elf still in Middle Earth! Ai'! She is kin to Aragorn as well! And to Lord Elrond of Imladris, by way of ancient King Elros! The ancient Numinoreans?_

Arohtarë was reveling in watching the usually somber and stoic elf, struggle to retain his composure. She stifled a laugh as he raised his face to hers, total bewilderment spread across his features.

"Arohtarë, hiril-nîn, I…'Tis bewildering. I would not have known this to be possible…for…mortals…I... Aragorn…"

The elf was uncharacteristically muttering now, which finally elicited a shriek of laughter from the woman that she could not contain any longer. He eyed her coolly, then felt his heart fill with joy at seeing her so happy when, just hours ago, she was in the throes of great despair. He laughed along with her for a long moment before quiet finally enveloped them once again.

"Arohtarë, you certainly are of mystery. I am sure there is still much yet to learn from and about you."

She eyed him slyly. "Aye good prince and much shall remain mysterious…for you own good and sanity," she chuckled as he smiled back at her.

Something about that last statement made him think that she was not jesting in that regard.

She picked at some fruit on the tray then moved it away, taking up her goblet. Finishing her wine, she motioned for Legolas to fill it once more. He did and she settled back into the chaise. He picked up the subject of her marriage once more, but delicately.

"You were quite young then when you married?"

"Aye. I was 25 and drawn to Haldir like a moth to a flame."

"How long were you married?"

"147 winters."

"Sweet Eru…" muttered the elf.

She giggled and continued her history. "I had always cared a great deal about him, as I had grown up around him and his brothers and had known them all of my life. They were my family."

"How did you meet him initially? Was your adopted family close to the three of them?"

She remained silent for a moment, locking her gaze with the Elf's before answering.

"Aye Legolas, very close," she said softly, sipping her wine.

He heard the emotion in her voice, sensing a hidden meaning to her words. He was brought to, by the gentle yawning of the woman, as she stretched and rose off of the chaise.

"I feel the need to sleep my prince. I generously accept your offer to stay if you wish, though 'tis not a necessity. I shall be well."

"I will stay the night and tend the fire just the same. By doing so, I will assure myself, if none other, that you are indeed well."

She giggled. "Very well elf! The chaise is all yours."

He bowed slightly, grinning, and turned back to the fire saying, "Good eve Arohtarë, sleep well."

"You as well Legolas. And thank you."

She laid the robe by the foot of the bed and climbed in. Turning on her side, facing the fire, Arohtarë watched Legolas through sleep-laden eyes, until slumber finally claimed her. Her mind was anything but settled this eve. Though their conversation was pleasant, her dreams were infiltrated with the day's events and Haldir's internment. Images of the battle, and Haldir's last moments of life, raged through her mind, as she unconsciously tried to fight them off. Legolas was disturbed by her restlessness and knew what caused such distress. He went to her side and held her close, whispering elvish words that seemed to calm her mind without waking her. He held her until he felt her relax in his arms and her breathing steadied, and then gently laid her back onto the pillows.

He returned to the chaise, lying down and stretching out his long legs the length of it. Crossing his ankles and knitting his hands behind his head, he thought over the evening's conversation. Marveling at the history that was this woman. Something tugged at the back of his mind that he just could not get his hands around. There was something deeper, possibly darker, about her and he knew that Aragorn was well aware of this part of her. Did he want to find out first hand, was his question to himself. Her guard was always up. He felt only what she allowed to be felt, for she deftly masked her emotions and thoughts from him. Even in sleep, he could not get a clear hold on what she was feeling, but was able to feel much more than when she was awake. As he had just found out. Gazing into the fire once more, he became lost in his thoughts about the woman he had loved and known so long ago. He thought of the last day he had seen her and what his father had said to him upon her departure.

_**The Parting**_

_Great pain infiltrated the young elf's heart, as he embraced the mortal elleth and helped her mount her horse. The pain twisted like a knife through his chest, as he watched she and her father turn away and head for the great gates of Mirkwood. Unshed tears hung at the corners of his piercing blue eyes. _

_Thranduil silently noted all with interest and a bit of concern. A mortal? Ai'. But it was highly evident that he was extremely happy in her presence. More so than he had ever seen his son to be. He pondered the ramifications of such a joining. Elvish love…t'was true and instant when the heart chose its mate. He looked up in time to see the Lórien contingent ride towards the gates and smiled to himself. If it t'were Haldir's daughter, he might find that an acceptable addition to the royal line, mortal or no, if it were to ever come about. He put his arm around his son's shoulders and gave him a knowing look. _

_"This parting pains me greatly, Adar. Now I truly know how you felt when Naneth passed to Valinor," the prince whispered. _

_"Aye, ion-nîn. And I still feel it as if her passing t'were yesterday. You are the only thing that has held me to this earth all these years ion-nîn. Love is the most powerful thing we have been blessed with. Your heart will never forget ion. Never. Your hearts have chosen each other for eternity, regardless that she is mortal. T'was a choice you have both made and one that you will both have to live with. Her mortality seals her inevitable fate and you must deal with that. Her lifetime may not allow a return to your arms ion and you must come to grips with that fact as well. Though, the Valar have been known to be most merciful," he told his son, smiling hopefully back at him. _

_"Rest assured ion and know this as the truth, if you both are to come together in the future, I shall not stand in your way. I shall bless your binding with open arms." _

_Legolas couldn't believe his ears. Adar blessing a binding between a royal and a mortal? _

_"Truly Adar? You will allow this?" _

_"Aye, ion. Just in the few days she was here, I have become fond of the young elleth and she has made you the happiest I have ever seen you. Anyone who is able to do that to you Legolas is deserving of my love as well." _

_He looked down at the prince. _

_"For now, ion-nîn, 'tis all in the hands of the Valar. All we can now do is wait and hope that her life is such that there is a good portion left to come back to you."_


	7. Chapter 7

Text that is in italics are flashbacks.

Text that is in bold italics is conversation taking place in the minds of characters speaking with each other.

Tears clouded the great warrior's eyes as the memory sat in his mind as if it were yesterday. He glanced sadly at Arohtarë and took in a deep breath. It was killing him to be so close to a presence that reminded him so much of his lost beloved. They could not be one in the same, but his heart was persistent. He would have to let things play out and prayed he could survive the outcome. He sighed softly and turned towards the cracking fire.

Arohtarë awoke to the warm glow of the fire's embers, deep in the night. Though her mind had been cleared of her nightmares, and replaced by thoughts of her life in Lórien, she found herself needing open space. She glanced at Legolas, who seemed asleep on the chaise. Did she really want to walk all that way to the battlements? No. She would make do with a window view. She silently rose and donned her robe then crept across the room to the large shutters, barring the window. The latches gave easily and she was able to open them rather noiselessly. She was pleasantly surprised and pleased that there was a small balcony on the other side of the doors, and she happily took a small chair from the room and placed it on the stonework. There was a slight breeze and a brisk chill in the air but it felt wonderful. 

She quietly closed the doors to the room, not wanting to disturb the sleeping Elf within. She gazed out over the vast plains of Rohan, imagining the magnificent herds of Maoras that roamed at will over the rolling, grassy hills. She focused her gaze in the direction of Lórien; unseen and so far away it seemed, past the plains of Rohan, seemingly in another universe. How she longed to return; how she feared to return. How would she feel about her home now, if she chanced to? She played their last words to each other over and over in her mind, trying to wring some comfort out of them, though it was hard to do. His words to her were full of hope and despair mingled together. He had told her things that she had pushed so far out of her mind that she had to struggle to remember them. 

_This journey, this battle meleth…they may well be our last._

Aye, Haldir. They just may. We have been through so many you and I.

Aye, Arohtarë, but not one of such magnitude I fear. Sauron has grown stronger with each passing day, as hope for Middle Earth wanes.

Estel must prevail, the fellowship, must prevail. I would give all to aid in the cause, Haldir, meleth.  
And you very well may Arohtarë; we both very well may perish in this endeavor.

'Tis a small price to pay for ridding the earth of this malice that now threatens to consume it, my dearest Marchwarden.

You are right my daughter and wife, you are right. I have lived well nigh 4000 years, and though I do not wish to come to the end of my days just yet, twould all be worth the cost for just cause, and the preservation of the free peoples of our earth.

SILENCE

What causes you to hold your tongue husband?

Thoughts of you meleth, thoughts of you…..(Kisses Arohtarë softly.)

You shall find love past ours, meleth-nîn, one that has burned within your heart for more than a yen, if I should fall….

Do not speak such! I shall not hear of it!

I shall, and you will. 'Tis the truth of it, Arohtarë. Should I fall, you will continue. You must continue. There will be none of this earth left to me if you fall, Arohtarë. For my life has been long and well lived. You, you must live on, revel in the gift of long mortal life. Do not squander it upon my death, for it would dishonor your kind and that of the Valar. The Dúnedain have been blessed. Do not take this blessing to an early grave. Promise that you will not fade, meleth. Promise me this.

………I cannot Haldir…Truly I cannot, but can say only that, if and when that time comes, and all seems lost to me, I will try …

Then that is all I can ask of you, meleth. I shall have to take this as your truth. 'Tis unfair and selfish of me to have asked this of you, as I could not promise you that I would not do the same in earnest.

(You shall find love past ours, meleth-nîn, one that has burned within your heart for more than a yen, if I should fall…./Promise me this

You shall find love past ours, meleth-nîn, one that has burned within your heart for more than a yen, if I should fall…./ Promise me this)

So lost in her thoughts and sorrow, she didn't sense the silent figure standing in the shadow of the doorway.

"Haldir…" she whispered, a choking sob catching in her throat. "'Not fading…'tis so hard for me not to do meleth, I am trying not to, truly I am," she gave a sad laugh.

"I nearly failed you in that promise this eve meleth, but…," she wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her robe. "… one of golden light pulled me from its grasp."

She gave a deep sigh and then let out a heart-wrenching sob. "There is so little left to hold me here, meleth-nîn."

She began to weep silently, and in between soft sobs, sent up a prayer to the Creator. "Eru, tegi nin ah calad lin, awartha narich an nedh dae," she whispered. God, guide me with thy light, for I am lost in darkness.

Tears began gliding down her face, as she felt strong arms gently encircle her. She leaned her face into the broad shoulders, now weeping freely, as Legolas held her close to him.

_Sweet Eru…that was what I had felt, as I sat next to her on the battlements tonight. She was dying right before my eyes, and I failed to recognize that fact. Thank you mighty Valar, for guiding me to her side,_ he thought, kissing her head and cheek, gently rocking slightly in a calming motion. He knew that, as Dúnedain, she was granted the gift of being able to choose her time to pass, no matter her age, and she had been so close to doing so. He closed his eyes at the thought. Arohtarë slowly reached her arms around his waist and sobbed silently, her solid frame shaking slightly. He tightened his embrace, giving her a feeling of security, as he softly whispered comforting words to her, easing her mind and calming her soul. After a short time, he felt her body relax slightly and her breathing began to even out, until it became a steady rise and fall.

They sat like this for a very long time, long enough for the morning star to have risen in the east. Arohtarë had fallen asleep some time ago, but he didn't have the heart to move her back to her bed, fearing that he would interrupt her sleep. Eru knew she had gotten precious little of it in the past few days. Looking down now, he could see that she was deeply asleep, so he chanced shifting and lifting her in his arms. He slowly and gently carried her into the room and carefully laid her upon the bed, drawing the covers up around her shoulders. He put several more logs on the fire and returned to the chaise, laying down facing her. He would not risk her leaving his sight again for the rest of the evening.

Arohtarë was still in deep slumber the next morn, when a soft rapping brought Legolas to his feet. He quietly crept to the door and opened it as silently as he could. Aragorn was standing in the hall, deep concern creasing his brow. Legolas stepped out into the hall and softly closed the door behind him.

"How does she fare, mellon?" he whispered. 

"Not well, Aragorn. She nearly faded last night on the battlements. Thank the Valar I chanced upon her when I did." 

Aragorn leaned against the wall with a pained look upon his face, as the Elf told the happenings of the past evening.

Aragorn glanced at the closed door, as if pondering to enter.

"She sleeps, mellon, for the first time since the night of battle." 

Aragorn leaned his forehead against the door, eyes closed. 

"She should not be left alone, mellon, from now until we reach Edoras." He cursed under his breath, jaw clenched. "I will be unable to spend the time I need to with her until then. Théoden vexes me so. I am constantly having to maneuver him into making the proper decisions that could win us this war. Every waking moment I have, has been and will continue to be spent in his company I fear, Legolas. Mayhap, at Edoras, I can slip away in her company. Until then, please, I ask this of you, keep her in your care."

The Elf felt the despair and anger poring out of the ranger; despair that they risked losing a great friend and warrior, and anger that he could do nothing to aid in her plight.

"Calm your fears, Estel. I have no qualms in doing as you ask. It was something I had taken upon myself the moment I accompanied her in searching for Haldir's body."

Aragorn smiled broadly, as if a great weight had been taken from him.

"She is trusting in you I take it?"

Legolas nodded slightly. "She began telling me about herself, as we sat in her chambers last eve. She is a remarkable woman, Aragorn."

"Aye. My friend, that she is and is one reason, among many, why she must be kept whole and hale, in spite of herself. She has never known such grief as that she faces now. She is a complicated creature, Legolas, and one that needs the comfort and company of your kind. Know that she has the same emotional tendencies as you do, my friend." 

Upon saying such, he laid a strong hand upon the elf's shoulder, smiled, and hurried down the stone hall.

Legolas looked after him until he disappeared around a corner, then turned back towards the door and reentered Arohtarë 's chambers. The woman was still sleeping soundly, as he pulled the heavy drapes tighter over the shuttered window, preventing the rising sunlight from entering the room through its cracks. He then went and sat by the bed, gazing at her for a moment. He reached out his hand and slowly drew his long slender fingers over her raven-black hair, partially covering her face. He drew back the lock of hair lying across her cheek and sighed. She appeared so peaceful; the most she had looked since he had first seen her in Lórien; when her world was still stable and firm under her feet.  
He remained by her side for a short while then moved to tend to the dying fire. The sun of the day would give enough warmth to the room, even if she slept through it. He cleaned the grate of ash then sat upon the chaise, staring at the dying embers for a short while.

"Legolas?"

Arohtarë 's soft voice floated to his ears. He rose and went to her side. Her eyes were partly closed, as she shook the sleep from them and sat up against the pillows with a yawn.

"Did you sleep well, hiril-nîn?" he asked, smiling warmly.

"Aye, Elda. I did, surprisingly well. T'were not for your soft words, I would have remained awake the entire eve," She looked at him sadly. "Many thanks for your comfort, Legolas of the Northern Realm. If not for your company, I would now be in that of meleth-nîn."

He shuddered slightly at these words. Indeed. _Twill be seen to for that to be not,_ he thought to himself. "Do you feel up to breakfast or shall I bring you something?"

She took his hand. "I shall rise I think, seeing as I slept wonderfully. Indeed, there is much to do and ready for the journey to Edoras, so I best chance to begin early in earnest," she said, squeezing his hand.

He glanced around the room, seeing what belongings she would need to pack, but saw little.

"Hiril-nîn, you have little in the way of personal accoutrements. Pray, what needs readying?"

"We shall leave within two hours, aye?"

"Aye. We do." 

"Once I have eaten I shall need to don my armor. That, my dear prince, takes at least one…with harbour I might add!" she chuckled.

"Might I be of that harbour?"

"I would be honored if you would."

"Good. I shall wait for you after the meal then," he said, rising and kissing her hand.

"I will be down shortly," she said, rising from the bed, as Legolas left her chambers for the feasting hall. 

She smiled to herself as she readied for the day. _He has brought me great ease of mind these past days, my love has,_ she thought to herself, as she donned her tunic and strapped her sword around her waist. She opened the door and stepped out into the hall, heading for those gathered for the morning meal.

Aragorn rose upon seeing Arohtarë enter the feasting hall, followed by Gimli, Legolas and Gandalf.

"M'lady? You are well this morn?" said Aragorn, with concern in his voice.

"Aye brother I am well, and rested if you can so believe," she said with a chuckle. She looked at a space next to Legolas and kidded, "Is this seat taken, m'lord?"

"Yes."

She looked at him quizzically.

"…By you, hiril-nîn," he finished with a smile, gesturing to the seat next to him.

The others fell silent, smiling to themselves as they sat back down. 

Gandalf broke the silence by saying, "M'lady Arohtarë, you shall ride to Edoras this day?"

"Aye Istar, I have decided to remain with Aragorn and the remainder of the fellowship, until I am moved to do otherwise, there being nothing pressing for me to attend to as of yet in Lórien." 

Gandalf pondered her words for a moment, glanced quickly and unnoticed at the Elf at her side, then smiled.

"Mayhap you shall find the company much to your liking, over a contingent of stoic guards riding back to Lórien, I should think!" he said chuckling, and rising to leave the group to themselves. 

Arohtarë giggled softly, knowing the wizard's exact meaning. It was not lost on Aragorn either. Neither Gimli nor Legolas seemed to acknowledge the double meaning though. Finishing their meal, Legolas and Arohtarë left the group to head back to her chambers. As they were about to enter her rooms, a sentry came to her side with a parchment in his hands.

"You are the Lady Arohtarë, Captain of the Galadhrim?"

"I am." 

"I have a message sent by Lord Elrond of Rivendell, m'lady," he said, handing her the parchment and awaiting her instructions.

She opened the scroll and read the contents silently.

She looked up suddenly and said to the soldier, "Does the messenger still wait, sentry?"

"Aye, m'lady, he does."

"Please, send him up to my chambers. I wish to speak with him."

"As you wish m'lady."

He saluted and bowed, then hurried to fetch the Rivendell messenger. She glanced at the writing once more before rolling it back up and tucking it into her tunic.

"Interesting," she murmured to herself, and glanced at Legolas with a smile.

He tilted his head and raised his brow in question. She laughed a bit sadly.

"T'would seem that word gets out quickly, m'lord elf. Twould seem that even Imladris now knows of the passing of Lórien's Marchwarden. Letters normally meant for him are now being addressed to me."

She patted the breast of her tunic and gazed at the floor, then back to Legolas.

"I had never in my wildest imagination ever thought that this task would fall upon my shoulders, Legolas. I looked to Haldir as always being there, invincible, and unreachable to the grip of death. It never once entered my mind, even while in the heat of battle, that he would not always be at my side. And we had been in many together." 

She paused, a darkness clouding her fair features. "Such foolish thoughts on my part. Such naïveté. I have been as unaccustomed to death as you, mellon. I did not, until this moment in my life, grasp its meaning, its finality. I still do not, truth be told. Mortal I may be by blood, Legolas, but the heart and mind of an elf do I possess," she said softly, as she put her hand to her chest, feeling the parchment beneath.

"I can understand your feelings Arohtarë, for I too do not wish the burden of rule. I pray my father does not take the gray ship and leave me his crown. Though you have been untimely handed such duties through your position, if I can be of any harbour, I shall certainly offer what I can."

She studied him for a moment. "You are very kind mellon. I shall surely lean on your advice in any matters that can be divulged."

They were interrupted by a rap on the door, and the sentry stuck his head in.

"M'lady, the messenger of Rivendell awaits, Captain."

"Thank you sentry. You may take your leave." He bowed and motioned for the Rivendell elf to enter.

"M'lady."

The dignitary bowed and walked forward, eyeing Legolas as he did so, and nodded to him in acknowledgement.

"You wished to speak with me?"

"Aye, m'lord. I have a question regarding Lord Elrond if you are free to speak the answer."

"I shall answer if I am able, m'lady."

She paused, removing the parchment from her tunic and unrolled it.

"Am I to understand that the Lord wishes an audience with me at …" she looked at Legolas, not sure if she should speak further in his presence. Having a thought, she hoped the messenger would catch her meaning. "…at the Dune?"

The dignitary blinked and then realization spread upon his face. "Aye, m'lady. It is of the utmost urgency that you are present. You are to be the emissary in an important matter."

"Ah. I wished to have clarification. Thank you…" she looked at the messenger expectantly for his name.

"Eldraid, m'lady." 

"Thank you, Eldraid. You have been so kind as to give me a moment of your time. Please relay my best to Lord Elrond and inform him that I shall be present at his request, barring any calamities that should befall me," she said bemused.

"You are welcome and I shall, Lady Arohtarë."

"Travel well emissary."

He bowed and left them to themselves. Arohtarë was gazing at the parchment, lost in thought for a moment, then looked up at Legolas.

"Well. It appears that any plans I had of mine own have been placed in waiting for a bit, good prince," she said in resignation, as she rose and collected a bottle of fruited wine and two goblets from the chamber table.

She motioned to Legolas and he nodded. She poured out two draughts and handed one goblet to the elf. She took a sip and glanced at Legolas, as she put the goblet down with a soft sigh.

"I had other thoughts of what I wished to do with my time away from Lórien. I can tell you I am not pleased with this new duty. Any other time, I would have no objection."

Legolas felt he knew what her thoughts were focused upon but hesitated to speak it. He paused a moment then took a breath and decided to do so anyway.

"Arohtarë? May I speak plainly?" 

"Aye. Of course."

"You thirst for battle, is this your focus?" His point blank question took her off guard.

She looked up at him slowly. "And this is something that troubles you, young Elda?"

"Nay, not your thirst for it, more so, your reason for desiring it." 

From across the table, he felt her tense, grow uneasy and then angry.

"Your intuitive powers may someday be your undoing, young lord," she said darkly, glaring at Legolas, over the rim of her goblet. "My reasons for desiring things so, are just that…mine own, and I shall not want to remind you of this fact in the future."

Legolas felt the twinge of anger rise within him. Something that was highly uncharacteristic for his nature. He was not sure why he was becoming so terribly protective of this woman, one who could protect herself very well indeed. Save from herself.

He straightened, faced her squarely and locked his now fiery gaze upon hers.

"M'lady, do not play me for a fool. You wish death upon yourself. Do not state otherwise for I know this to be true. Traveling with our contingent will most assuredly seal such a fate to befall you. If it does not come easily, you shall devise a way to cause such to occur. I have heard your words m'lady, on the balcony last eve," he said evenly, and with a great amount of self-control.

She looked at him in stunned silence, a look of bewilderment, mingled with anger, on her face. He rose and quickly made his way around the table to the woman. He took the goblet from her hand and drew her to stand, which she allowed. He led her towards the chaise and both sat facing each other. She still had a look of shock on her face and had turned to stare blankly into the empty fireplace. He gently turned her face back towards him, and again, locked his gaze with hers.

In a much softer voice he said, "Nay, Arohtarë, as long as I have breath, I shall not allow you to fade by your own hand. 'Tis not your fate and Haldir knew this. The agony in your heart shall pass, please be patient. You have much of life to live yet."

Tears began to well up in her eyes, as the truth of what he had said filled her mind. He drew her to him, cradling her head against his chest, and felt her tears soaking into his tunic.

"Pray, do not be angered with me, m'lady, for you know I speak the truth. Many still depend upon you for guidance and leadership. Your loss would cause a greater rift in the culture of our people, as has Haldir's."

Shocking himself, he added so softly that she couldn't hear him. "And I am finding you precious to me," he silently whispered into her hair.

She lifted her head from his chest and slowly looked into his crystal blue eyes. His touch and compassion once again calming her heart, as it always had.

"You speak the truth, Legolas, I could not possibly be angry with you, more so at myself. It has been so difficult these past days, and I have not been right," she whispered.

"You have faced much horror and turmoil in your life, yet you have endured. You can move past this, as you have the strength to do so. If you did not, you never would have become who you now are." She looked at him for a long moment before silently nodding.

"You can trust in me, hiril-nîn, to hold your confidences close, and offer you my friendship, if you will have it, as you heal." She smiled and brushed her hand against his cheek, nodding. "Come hiril-nîn, allow me to help you with your armor. Time grows short for our departure."

As Legolas and Arohtarë made their way to the Keep, Lord Eomer approached the Lórien captain, leading a beautiful black stallion. He glanced at the Elf, then to Aragorn, unsure if the woman understood the Common Speech, for he had not yet had the opportunity to speak with the elf-raised mortal. Aragorn spoke in Rohirric, addressing his unspoken question. "She is well-versed in the Common Speech, Lord Eomer." Eomer nodded slightly then turned to face the woman.

"M'lady Arohtarë. I pray this steed carries you well into battle, as it did his departed master," he said, with a slight bow of his head, and handing her the reins to the magnificent warhorse.

The woman slanted her head slightly, not having heard Westron spoken for many years. Her mind raced to recall the mannish language taught to her by her father more than a yen ere. Her strong, melodic voice was like a song and thickly accented, as a native speaker of the Elven tongue would be. The sound of her voice speaking Westron even surprised Legolas, as he had not heard her speak in the tongue before this moment.

"M'lord, this is most gracious of you. To what do I owe this great honor? This gift…? 'Tis more that I am worthy of."

"To Rohan you owe nothing, m'lady. 'Tis the least that can be done for the sacrifices you and your people have given, for the survival of the free peoples of these lands. 'Tis Rohan that owes you much."

He put his fist to his chest and swung his hand away, honoring her in the customary elven salutation. She returned the respect and mounted the maraes. The horse snorted and bobbed its head in recognition of its new mistress, turning its head back and eyeing Arohtarë curiously. She leaned down and whispered several elvish words to him, as his head was turned towards her. When she finished speaking, it pawed the earth and bobbed its head several times in what appeared to be acknowledgement.

Legolas, riding Arod with Gimli mounted behind him, pulled up next to her and said, "Welcome to the Fellowship, m'lady. Would you care to accompany us to Edoras?" 

She chuckled and said, "T'would be an honor young princeling!"

Gimli, Legolas, Aragorn and Arohtarë rode in the lead with Eomer, Théoden King, and the king's aides. Legolas, with Gimli mounted behind, rode beside Arohtarë, who rode slightly to the right and behind Aragorn, with sixty of her Lórien Guard that had survived the battle streaming out behind her. It took two days to reach the Golden Hall, but at least the trip was uneventful. Sort of.

As they rode the first day, Arohtarë became aware of a young Rohirrim soldier, who's fancy she had apparently captured. She caught him staring several times in her direction, annoying her to no end. She kept her eyes steeled ahead, hoping the Edain would eventually fade to the rear. An hour or two into the ride, the young man was still in the same position, still staring on occasion. Legolas noted the little drama unfolding, and tried mightily to squelch his chuckling, failing miserably. Arohtarë glanced sharply at the Elf, shooting him her sternest Marchwarden's glower, which only served to elicit a louder chuckle from the Elda. 

Reining her mount closer to the prince, she hissed, "And you find such amusing, young Elda, eh? Pray, why is that?"

"Hiril-nîn, you cannot fault one so young in admiring such a jewel?" replied the Elf, eyes bright as stars.

"Bah! You are just as roguish as the lot of them!" she snapped, tossing her head in the young soldier's direction. 

Seeing this gesture, the soldier seemed to gather his courage, and approached the Marchwarden.

"Ay! The young whelp approaches, Lady Arohtarë!" growled Gimli with a hardy laugh.

Legolas looked over his shoulder, and nodded in the approaching soldier's direction.

"Does he indeed?" voiced Arohtarë, a now evil glint in her eye, as she reined her horse in the youth's direction.

"Now missy, don't ye go tearin inta 'im ya heer!" He be curious is all!" voiced the dwarf, seeing the cold look in her eyes.

She met the dwarf's gaze, "Curiosity has been known to kill more than cats, Dwarf!" she scoffed in irritation, and then met that of Legolas's. He simply smiled sweetly, biting his lower lip in silent mirth. 

"M'lady?"

The soldier's smooth voice broke Arohtarë's glare at the Elf, and she leveled it upon the young rider. She turned slowly to meet his gaze, eyes cold as ice.

Eomer had been observing the entire event unfolding before him as he rode by the youth's side, and leaned over to whisper something quickly to the young man.

"Forgive me…m'lady 'Captain'." The youth passed his eyes over her tall frame and her golden armor, then up to her face.

"You speak Westron, do you not?" 

His voice was steady, but held a hint of nervousness within. She didn't answer, only continued to glare at the young man in silence. Though she was fluent in the Common Speech, she rarely, if ever, conversed in it. Even when speaking with Aragorn. She had spoken a bit with Gimli, though the dwarf understood enough Sindarin to spare her its use, most of the time. Legolas was much freer with it than she. The young man swallowed thickly, dropping his eyes for a moment, wondering what in Arda caused him to approach this woman in the first place.

"Aye, I do Edain." She voiced. The sound of her voice, cold and calculating, made the soldier flinch.

The young man regained a bit of his composure. "Forgive my boldness m'lady…Captain, but I could not help but to notice that you are not of the Eldar. Yet you stood with them, fought with them. Are you not of the Race of Man?"

Eomer rolled his eyes at the stupidity of youth and the fact that death was now hovering menacingly over the young man, unbeknownst to him. The lord was readying to yank the young whelp from his horse, before Arohtarë could draw her sword; something he would not put past her, seeing that what just spilled forth from the lips of the young idiot was an outright insult to her.

The Lord of the Third Riddermark eyed the elf-raised mortal closely, and grimaced. Arohtarë's spine stiffened, she was now sitting ramrod straight upon her steed. She reined the stallion to a hard halt, and at an angle that forced the soldier's horse to stop as well. She pulled her mount around so that she now faced the man, and was no more than an arm's length from him. She sat a full three inches taller than he and filled his sight as broadly as she was tall.

"Sweet Bemá," muttered the youth, eyes wide, as his gaze lifted above his own now having to look up at her.

Eomer reined up along one side of the soldier and Legolas to the left of Arohtarë. By now, the entire contingent was aware of the strange happenings that had caused the column to halt.

"Arohtarë…" Legolas began, but she raised her hand in silence.

At this gesture, her warriors swiftly came to her sides, fully surrounding the small party. She brought her mount even closer to the man's, the flanks of both horses now nearly touching.

In a thickly accented, but clear voice she said calmly, "Nay, I am not of the Eldar, young Edain. Aye, I am of mortal blood, by which the similarities with your kind end. Aye, I stood with 'them', and fought with 'them'. What interest is this to you, Soldier of the Rohirrim?"

Growing bolder and a bit annoyed by what he thought to have been an insult, he replied, "You being of the Race of Man, why would you allege to this foreign race? One that wanes? Surely those of your own kind are better suited to your…"

He never finished his sentence. Eomer had been prepared to grab the foolish youth, but would never have been swift enough. In a second, the young man found himself knocked from his steed to the ground, and staring down the business end of Arohtarë's great Noldor sword and her towering above. 

"'Tis this very stupidity of the Edain that causes my unrest against it. That, and I know naught of the race, save 'tis brutish and of a rouge nature. I was born and raised among the Eldar, foolish youth! 'Tis due to these very actions by your hand, that I care not to mingle amongst the Second Born."

She leaned closer to the now frightened man. "For the rest of this journey, you best keep your tongue behind your teeth, if you have naught but foolish ramblings in your empty head!" She moved closer to the boy's face and hissed, "Or risk the loss of it!"

She then flicked the tip of her sword up the doublet of the soldier towards his throat, slicing each and every one of the closures open, right down to his bare chest, not leaving so much as a hair upon it out of place. The youth gasped, his eyes rolled and his head fell back in a swoon.

"Stupid bastard…" muttered Eomer, as he dismounted and tended to him.

Sheathing her sword, she turned to her own soldiers, snapped out a few commands in Sindarin, dispersing them, as throes of snickers rose from within their ranks. She then mounted her horse in a vault, to the amazement of the gathered Rohirrim, they only seeing such when Legolas had done near the same on their way to the Helm. By now, Eomer had gotten the fear glazed youth back onto his own steed, and back in formation. Eomer then nodded his head curtly to the woman and muttered a brief apology, she nodding in acceptance.

Aragorn had been watching in disbelief and great annoyance, but understood the woman's actions. He should have known that something of this nature would have occurred. She had little exposure to her own kind, save himself and his rangers who were friends of the Galadhrim, and held the same disdain for Men as many Elves would. He shook his head, eyes closed, as she mounted up and returned to her position in the column. He rode up to her, ignoring the hardy laughter from Gimli and several Rohirrim, and the soft chuckling coming from Legolas.

"Honestly Arohtarë, did you truly find the need to terrify the boy? Granted, his remarks were uttered in stupidity and the naiveté of youth, but really, m'lady!"

She glared at the man with icy green eyes, but he beheld a hint of mischief within their depths.

"Aye ranger, I had the need. Having been in a rather foul mood for the past few days, I was due a bit of humorous respite. It just so occurred at the youth's expense."

Aragorn was plying her a stern look, brow raised, which she waved off, chuckling. 

"You shall have to do a much better job of dealing out such gazes Estel, if you wish to glean the reaction you desire, from me at least. And if you so choose to challenge that of Haldir's. Now, he could drop a Nazgul dead from the air with his glare! Even as his wife, it still struck fear within to my toes when he chanced to throw it at his guards. Though, he knew better than to direct it towards me after we were bound."

"Indeed? And why, pray tell, was the reason?"

Her eyes danced with mirth as she faced Aragorn, a small smirk flikering at the corners of her lips.

"He would spend many eves cuddling his favorite pillow on the balcony's chaise, otherwise…"

Aragorn's eyes widened, then his lips trembled and he burst out in a peal of laughter that joined with that of Gimli's and, surprisingly, ever-stoic Legolas's.

Two days later, as their horses were led to the stables of Edoras, the Fellowship made their way to the King's Hall. Once there, they were directed to their quarters, with Arohtarë given the choice of a private room.

"Aragorn, I wish to remain in the company of all of you. I do not require separate quarters, as my needs are quite minimal."

Legolas listened, as he settled his belongings next to his bed. Though he would have liked her to remain amongst them, he hoped she would take a private room, as she would most likely need solitude at times, while she was in Rohan. She did not care to mingle with children of men, and Aragorn had told him she normally sought solitude regularly, and would most likely do so even more now.

"As you wish Arohtarë but you do cherish and require solitude. There will be little of either for you here." 

She thought a moment. "True, but I am also finding the need for the company of friends. Mayhap, I shall take the room, but spend time here when in need as well?"

"Aye. That can be arranged. We shall keep a bed for you here if you wish." She nodded.

Aragorn then led her to the balcony, off of their quarters. "Arohtarë, take your rest. There is naught for you to do at present."

"Aye I shall presently, Aragorn, but I wish to be around you and the others for a short time. There is something of great importance that I must speak to you of." 

He studied her for a moment his heart sinking. "As you wish m'lady but, you should know that I cannot be with you this eve. Théoden King and Gandalf have need of me."

"Aye. I know you have much burden to cope with these days. Do not feel pained that we have not met for conversation. I too, have been given unforeseen duties, that I shall have need to attend to in the next few days, mayhap,"

He raised his brow in surprise, but said nothing.

"Legolas has been a gift from the Valar these past days, and I am in good hands Estel."

"I am glad to hear such. He is a good elf, m'lady, and cares for your well being deeply." He kissed her cheek and then hurried from the room.

Legolas looked at Arohtarë, still standing on the balcony. It had been more than a week since Haldir's death, and she was seemingly coming to grips with it, finally. At least, he hoped so. He walked towards her and stood in the entryway, waiting for her to acknowledge him. She finally looked in his direction and held her hands out for him to join her. He smiled and went to her side.

"Sit with me?"

He nodded, and followed her to a chaise situated in the corner.

"How do you fare m'lady?"

"I am well. Truly," she said, eyeing him in earnest and squeezing his hand.

"It pleases me to hear you say such," he told her softly, as he looked ahead. 

"Lady Éowyn has told me that the sunsets here are stunning, and I had hoped to catch a glimpse of this evening's," she said, looking out over the Plains of Rohan.

Dusk was settling and the air was getting cool, as she drew her dark cloak around her. Legolas put his arm around her shoulder, drawing her closer to him, which she allowed. They sat in silence for a while, as the sky changed colors from fiery orange, to red, to a pastel pink and lavender. Arohtarë absently laid her head against the elf's shoulder, as the final edges of the sun sank below the horizon. Legolas, slightly surprised, glanced unnoticed at the woman as she did so, and smiled silently to himself. _She begins to heal,_ he thought.

"Legolas, may I ask you a question regarding something of a…erm...personal nature?"

He turned to her expectantly. "Of course m'lady."

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment before speaking. 

"Haldir and I were married for many years and I am having difficulty...

Um…The time we spent…

Pause.

What I am trying to say…"

Silence.

"Blast!" She hissed. "I am butchering this terribly, I fear." 

Legolas chuckled softly at her struggle to speak her mind. "Take your time m'lady. I am quite patient." He smiled warmly at her.

She looked over at him, flustered. "I do not wish to seem shallow lord Elf, and I cannot find the proper words to explain myself."

"I do not now, nor would I ever, think of you as shallow, hiril-nîn," he said, squeezing her shoulder.

She sighed, a bit relieved. "This is difficult, as I am at a loss to understand. I feel much guilt about it and this pains me almost as greatly..." she paused. 

"Almost as greatly as, what, Arohtarë?" 

"Ai'! The grief, Legolas. The grief. It is still close, but I am at a loss as to understand why it wanes, after so many years together. And so soon after his passing. I feel him leaving my soul Legolas; my heart accepting it, and its song changing," she said, slight anger in her tone. "Have you ever heard of such happening?"

She fell silent and they remained so for what seemed a long time.

"Mayhap…from death, Haldir releases the bond, hiril-nîn," said Legolas softly, gazing at the horizon.

She looked at the elf incredulously, not quite comprehending what he just said.

"That is not possible…is it?" she said, looking at Legolas blankly.

"Aye. 'Tis and moreso if the Valar so allowed,"

He continued to look over the battlements, not wanting to meet her gaze just yet. 

"A bond is forever, until the end of time, so I have been taught. So has all of Elvendom been told throughout the ages," she said quietly. "I vowed my fealty to him for the extent of my lifetime. I cannot bring myself to believe such a cleave is happening now betwixt us."

He bowed his head slightly then raised his gaze to meet hers. He faced her squarely and placed his hands on her shoulders while he spoke.

"Remember your words that eve at the Helm, Arohtarë. Remember your prayer. Your pain was great and it still weaves through you, but you are coping. You are finding the strength. You have asked Eru for such did you not?" She nodded slowly. "Did you not think that your prayer would be heard? Did you merely speak the words, having little faith in what you spoke?"

She stared past the elf's gaze, contemplating his words. "Nay, Legolas, I spoke all in earnest and with the deepest of feeling. I just did not think…"

"You did not think what, hiril-nîn? That you would be granted what you asked?"

"Nay…That I was worthy of such consideration, as I am mortal, living in the world of the Elven Kind," she barely whispered.

Legolas stared at her in astonishment. She thought so little of herself?

"Arohtarë, Eru discriminates against no one, mortal or immortal. All are equal in his sight. All of your life, you have felt this way? That your mortality is a stigma, a flaw in the eyes of the Eldar and Ilúvatar? If so, you have carried false beliefs needlessly, hiril."

He steadied his gaze, locking eyes with hers and, curling his fingers around her chin, prevented her from looking away. She struggled to pull her eyes from the Elf's but he was persistent. She lowered her gaze, but he tilted her chin up a bit more.

"Look at me hiril-nîn…look at me," he whispered firmly. "I stood in the doorway of that balcony for a long time, hearing you pour out your heart to Eru and the Valar. Hearing your last words with Haldir, hearing all that you had said, even before I approached the door. Are these not those same words?

You shall find love past ours meleth-nîn, one that has burned in your heart for more than a yen, if I should fall…. Promise that you will not fade meleth. Promise me this…" he repeated.

She stared at him in shock. "You…you had no right…"

"It was not intentional, I can assure you. You could speak well nigh an arrow's shot of two furlongs distance, and I would still have heard. I could not help but hear. You fail to remember the abilities of my kind, Arohtarë."

"What if I do not wish to love again, to live? Is that not my own right? I only want for Haldir!" She nearly screamed her words at him.

Legolas grasped her shoulders very tightly and shook her slightly, growling his response.

"He is dead, meleth! You must face this fact, he has passed. He shall not return! Nothing...nothing, shall bring him back to your arms, and you shall not follow! I shall not allow it!"

She looked at him as if it were the first time she had ever seen his face. She paled as Legolas's words sank in. She began to shiver slightly and he drew her to him, in an attempt to calm the sting of his words. She grasped his tunic tightly, craving his closeness, though she felt he had hurt her, and felt her actions were dishonoring Haldir's memory. He had spoken the cruel truth. That which she could not bring herself to accept. He had forcefully jolted her back into reality. The reality that she had abandoned the moment that Haldir had breathed his last in her arms. Then it hit her.

_What did he say? Meleth! I had not heard him speak such in years!_

He realized his mistake immediately upon the word leaving his lips. It slipping out in an uncharacteristic show of free emotion. He cursed silently at this rare error in judgment. He felt certain that he had chosen the wrong moment to force her to confront the truth.

"Legolas…" 

He came out of his thoughts, hearing her whisper his name. 

"Aye …" he said softly, kissing her head and closing his eyes.

"You called me 'love'…"

"Aye, and I should not have…"

"Did you mean it?" 

He sighed, realizing that he would have to now confront his own truth, somewhat. Pulling away from the embrace, he held her gently by her shoulders.

"Forgive me, hiril-nîn, by Eru, forgive me…Aye Arohtarë, I meant it, but should not have spoken such. Not at this time. Mayhap never."

He leaned his head back against the stonework, eyes closed and jaw clenched. She looked upon him for a moment as he struggled for words. She reached her hand to his face, softly caressing his cheek. His eyes blinked open at her touch, and captured her hand in his and held it to his heart.

"Never, Legolas?"

He looked at her with a combination of pain and softness in his eyes. He noted that she had regained her usual stoic composure, casting an imposing figure as she once did upon marching into the Helm. Her strength was returning.

"All you have spoken this eve has been the truth, even your own feelings. I accept all that you have said as such. Including your own."

They gazed at each other for a moment then they came together in an embrace, wrought with emotion, relief and comfort.

"Is it wrong of me to seek the comfort of another, so soon after his passing, Legolas?" she whispered.

He looked down upon her, not knowing how to answer.

"Seeking comfort of this kind, nay. 'Tis not. A close friendship is the greatest healer sometimes, mayhap." He turned her face up to meet his gaze.

"Know this though, I shall do naught to cause you discomfort, Arohtarë, nor shall I step past any boundaries that you wish me not to. I offer you only the love and comfort of a close friend, if you will have it." 

"Aye. It has guided me so far. Many thanks, Legolas. You have eased me through what I hope is the worst of it." He smiled, pleased that she saw only friendship in his intentions at this point.

She stretched and stood, looking down at the Elf warmly. 'Tis late, and I feel surprisingly sleepy for once. I shall retire to my rooms this eve, I think."

"Shall I accompany you, hiril-nîn?"

"Nay, Legolas. I am well. I bid you good eve, young princeling. "

"And to you, Lady Arohtarë."

He watched as she made her way off of the balcony and out of the Fellowship's chambers. He breathed a sigh of relief that things went the way they did. She was recovering. That was the important thing. Now, if he could only make it through the rest of this bloody war as well…

She settled in for the night, and was almost instantly overcome by more memories of her past relationship with the prince. They were becoming more and more frequent, as if they were being purposefully placed in her mind by an unseen hand, and this concerned her greatly.

A little more than a fortnight passed, with Gandalf leaving for Gondor with Pippin, and the rest of the fellowship biding their time, waiting for word from the Istar. Legolas had not seen much of the Marchwarden during this time, being occupied with various duties and training. Though she had made little effort to seek him out. They chanced to meet this one morning, for archery practice, on a makeshift ally that had been set up for them, below the Golden Hall. Legolas was in conversation with Aragorn and Gimli when he glanced up, hearing "m'lady Captain" floating from above, as Arohtarë made her appearance. He gazed up at her with deepening eyes.

She struck a tall and imposing figure as she stood on the high step of Medusled's portico, hand on the hilt of her sword, scanning the plains below, her cloak, billowing at her back, in the brisk wind. She looked hale and whole. Just as he remembered her being in Lórien, and that made his heart soar. She was dressed in the garb of a Lórien Marchwarden; a gray outer tunic with black leggings and high black suede boots, the crimson cloak of her rank tethered about her shoulders. Her sword was at her side and her quiver, longbow and long knives were strapped to her back.

The Mirkwood elf couldn't take his eyes off of her, which amused both Aragorn and Gimli to no end. Her descent down the stairs made him think of a night many, many years ago, and how he had felt seeing Craban enter the Feasting Hall so long ago. He was having these same feelings, as he watched Arohtarë now. Needless to say, she attracted the attention of the sentries and other members of the Rohirrim, all moving aside, as she made her way gracefully down the palace steps to the fields below. She had kept to herself since their return to Edoras, so many didn't even know she had returned with the tiny host.

Legolas met her at the foot of the ramp, offering her his arm, and they walked together to the targets. Some of the Rohirrim followed, as their curiosity was peaked, never having seen an elven she-warrior before, and the fact that they had heard of Legolas's skill as an archer. Both took their positions in front of two targets and readied their bows. Both targets were at least two furlongs from where they stood. Although she and Legolas had fought together on the battlements, he had not been able to assess her skill with a bow in the heat of battle. Each loaded an arrow and let them fly, both hitting exact centers. They began to rapidly load and fire until each target had at least three-dozen arrows impaled within. All had hit within the center circles, forming six-inch diameter clusters. Many in each target were split beyond repair but, as most of the arrows were reclaimed orc arrows, none were a great loss.

Gimli stared in awe at Arohtarë 's target as Aragorn smiling knowingly, and chuckled at Gimli's reaction. 

"Aragorn, she is greatly skilled! How did she come about such?"

Aragorn chuckled again saying, "She had one of the greatest archers in Elvendom as her teacher, aside from Legolas, my friend."

Gimli blinked at him quizzically. Aragorn noting his confusion added, "Haldir, Master Dwarf." 

"Ah. Oh. But of course," he said bowing his head in respect to the fallen warrior.

Legolas stood back and looked down the field, noticeably impressed with Arohtarë's skill. She had nearly matched him in targeting. The small crowd gathered around them, clapped in approval and wonderment as the two walked together down the field to retrieve their arrows.

"Hiril-nîn, I did not know you had such skill with a bow, though I knew you had to be rather proficient to attain Warden status."

She glanced at him sideways saying, "Thank you. You are not too poor a shot either, princeling!" He laughed softly.

"Being the wife of the Marchwarden, I had to be better than proficient Legolas. I was watched constantly by the Galadhrim and I did not begin this way to say the least," she chuckled at the memory. 

"I was one of the worst archers in Lórien, to the point that no one would venture near the fields when I was present, in fear of becoming an unwitting target. I had no control whatsoever. I finally resigned to practicing at dusk, so that no one could see how bad I was. Haldir worked me to death, from my late teens all the way through to my 30s. Thankfully, and for the grace of Haldir's sanity, all of his instruction finally sank in." She started giggling as she began pulling out her arrows.

"I have always preferred blade over bow, but Haldir was adamant that I be equally proficient at both."

They walked back to their places in silence and commenced to fire again at the targets. By now, only a few stragglers were left watching, along with Aragorn and Gimli.

"I believe I have had enough of butchering the targets Legolas. I am done for the day," she said, putting the last of her arrows in her quiver.

"As am I Arohtarë," said the Elf curtly, as Aragorn and Gimli approached them. Something about what she had just said did not sit well with him. Haldir had worked with her from her early teens?

"Well done mellyn-nîn. We are grateful you both are on our side of the battlements," Aragorn joked. 'May we accompany you both for lunch?"

"Aye. T'would be enjoyable if you did," said Arohtarë as they began to make their way to the Golden Hall.

She finished her meal then excused herself, and made her way to her chambers. Legolas didn't have a chance to speak with her, yet again, save for their musings on the fields earlier and light banter during their meal. Though things were just as amiable as they had always been between them, he was feeling uneasy and hurt about her keeping him at a distance, and felt that he had somehow caused such a rift.

He excused himself and walked out to the portico overlooking the fields they had practiced on earlier. How he was wishing for the trees of Lórien or Mirkwood right now. He always found peace of mind in a tree. They soothed his soul and eased his mind. Right now his mind was on Arohtarë and he was having a devil of a time trying to shake these thoughts. The frightening thing was the fact that he really didn't want to shake them.

Arohtarë walked out on her balcony and looked out over the famed Stables of Edoras, towards the direction of her beloved Lothloríen. 

"M'lady, how I wish to return someday to the Golden Wood," she whispered to the Lady of Light.

She had heard nothing from her homeland, or the Lady, since they marched to the Helm, nigh a moon ago. It seemed like an age had passed since she had been walking the forest and borders of Lórien, and she yearned for its comfort. Gazing below, she caught a flash of long golden hair, gently fluttering in the brisk wind, now whispering through the plains.

Legolas. Her golden light. How she had wanted to be in his company these past days. How she ached to tell him all. She fingered the necklace under her tunic as she thought. But she was uncertain if she should even contemplate such a wanting. She was struggling to hold onto Haldir's memory with fervor and, at the same time, fighting to break free of the pain and heartache. No. There could be no room for another close to her heart. Not now. Mayhap not ever. She looked at the golden hair floating in the breeze once more. But she had always loved him…

How could her grief over Haldir's death be waning so soon after his departure? Surely something is awry, she thought, as she wished that the Lady of Light would answer her thoughts; those that she had been putting out almost daily. If anyone could shed some insight and give her advice or direction, Galadriel surely could. She sighed. Better to remain out of his sight as much as possible, so as to still mine own heart, she thought, but she felt that keeping herself out of his mind was another story altogether. The frightening fact was, he was in hers as well. He is a friend, a very close and dear friend now. That is all, she justified to herself, and walked back into her chambers with that thought firmly planted in her mind.

Legolas had remained on the portico most of the night, gazing at the stars, as he was prone to do whenever he could. He remained there for hours watching the stars move through the sky in their endless track. He was leaning against the stonework, with his eyes closed, when the air was pierced with the shriek of a great beast. His eyes snapped open and he began to scan the fields below for the fell wraith, not seeing anything. Another feral scream pierced the tranquility and Legolas realized that it had come from overhead. He steadied his gaze to the balcony above, his elven ears hearing the deep breathing of a great animal, but saw nothing.

Realizing that Arohtarë was on that floor, he raced to the next level and literally burst through her chamber doors. Glancing at the bed, he found it to be empty, but the balcony doors were wide open, cold air spilling through. Cautiously stepping through the doors, he found Arohtarë curled upon the chaise, clad in only her silvery night shift, and staring into the night. Her green eyes were glowing brightly, as she turned her gaze upon the Elf. Suddenly the bright orbs dimmed to darkness and Arohtarë's familiar husky voice floated from the darkness. 

"Good eve, Legolas. To what do I owe this visit so late in the eve?"

Totally confounded and flustered, the Elf could think of nothing plausible to say so just stood, staring blankly at the woman.

"Come now! What brings you to stand on my balcony? Come. Sit," she said, patting the space at her feet on the chaise.

"I …heard…noises from below…and have come to..."

"Enough, good prince. You need not speak further. Please," she again gestured to the chaise, but Legolas would not sit. Instead, he was about to take his leave when Aragorn came barreling onto the balcony.

"Is all well?" He breathed heavily, looking first to Arohtarë, then to Legolas.

"Aye, Aragorn. By the Valar! What is all this fuss about? Cannot a girl find peace and quiet on her own balcony, for Eru's sake?" she voiced in annoyance.

Aragorn raked his hand through his hair, glancing at Arohtarë in disdain. _Blast this woman and her 'gift'!_ he thought to himself. His facial features softened though, when he thought of how this woman had saved his and Haldir's lives, on numerous occasions. Nay he best not curse it. Twill come to usefulness in the days to come. That would be assured. He glanced at the confused Elf by his side and chuckled silently to himself. It could however, be the death of the Elda, if she kept him in a constant state of fright.

Legolas noted the look the man gave her, and was becoming irked at their silent conversations at his expense. "Twould seem those in my company hold something from me."

The woman and man both looked at the Elf blankly upon suddenly hearing his voice.

"I take my leave, Arohtarë. Good eve, Legolas," said Aragorn quietly, a smile playing upon his lips. _Let the Lady dig her way out of this one, for the Elf is persistent when annoyed,_ he thought, chuckling, as he left the two to themselves.

"Good eve to you as well, Aragorn. You shall pay dearly for your leave."

He laughed, as he heard her voice float through the night air. Legolas turned his intense gaze upon the woman, fiery blue eyes boring through her. Arohtarë rolled her eyes and sat up, looking away from the Elf and towards the fields below. Legolas took a seat next to her, not bothering to ask her permission.

He let out a loud frustrated sigh and said, "Hiril-nîn. What of these happenings? 'Tis vexing and aggravating. Neither of which states I am accustom to nor prone. Speak the truth with me, for I know you hold that which can explain all."

He gently grasped her shoulder, turning her to face him.

He looked her squarely in the eyes, she returning a like gaze. Neither flinched, nor looked away.

"Very well," he hissed loudly and rose to leave. "I bid you good eve hiril-nîn." 

"Good eve Legolas. I am sure the answers you seek will be had soon, though I do not know from what source."

He had begun to walk away but hesitated briefly, at hearing her words. He glanced sideways at her over his shoulder and continued walking. She sighed, watching him literally stalk away in frustration. 

"Please hold to a bit longer fair one. All will be made known in good time. All in good time my golden light," she said softly, as she rose and made her way back into the bedroom, closing the balcony doors as she went.


	8. Chapter 8

Breakfast the next morning was a somber affair, with neither Aragorn nor Legolas speaking a word to the woman. She and Gimli were conversing happily at the one end of the table, and Aragorn couldn't help but notice the intense and piercing glances the Elf was throwing in her direction. He stifled a laugh as the Elf turned his forlorn gaze back to his plate, then quickly up at Aragorn sitting across from him.

Aragorn cleared his throat and said, "What troubles you, mellon? Are you well? You have done nothing but pick at your food all morn." 

The Elf sighed sadly, pushed his plate away, and then looked up at the ranger. Aragorn could see the pleading and frustration in his eyes, as he tried to make sense of these separate but connected events, that he had borne witness to, over the course of three fortnight's time. He wanted to tell the Elf the truth, of what he beheld these eves, but it was not for him to speak. How he wished Arohtarë would council with the Elda, but he knew she bided her time for good reason.

"Legolas do not let the past eve's events heavy your heart. And do not hold anger against the lady. If there is anything to tell, I am sure that, with time, she will come around and tell you. Until then, do not dwell on such things, mellon. She will entrust to you more as time passes."

The Elf sighed again. "Aye Estel. I suppose you are correct. 'Tis difficult to walk blinded. She shrouds her thoughts and feelings deftly, to the point that she is almost a ghost to me. I am at a loss to understand her at all and I am not accustomed to such." 

Aragorn chuckled. "You, my friend, are not accustomed to the powers and charms of a woman either. Both of which you are up against and, dare I say, being bested by daily."

The look of naiveté on the Elf's face brought a burst of soft laughter from the ranger.

"She is unlike any other you shall chance upon in Middle-earth, mellon. That, in addition to her natural charms and abilities, shall make your head spin!" He laughed again.

"Aragorn, there is more…and I am not as unaccustomed to the powers and charms of a woman as you may think…"

Aragorn noted the seriousness in the Elf's voice.

"Pray, what, Legolas?"

The Elf took in a shallow breath. "There is much that appears similar between Arohtarë and Craban; her features, the way she walks, moves, fights. Her voice and name are different, and her hair is much longer, but it is if I see Craban when I look at her. I am at a loss as to what I am seeing, feeling. When I am in her presence my heart feels as it did when I was with Haldir's daughter, Aragorn. Though, I know it to be impossible that they are one in the same."

"Did you love Craban, mellon?"

The Elf looked up with great sadness, an agonizing pain in his eyes. "Aye, and I still do, Estel. My heart shall never forget." He gazed down at his feet. "It calls out to Arohtarë as if it knows something I do not. I have great guilt that my feelings are the same for this woman, as I do not wish to lose the memory of Craban."

Aragorn thought for a moment, and tried to piece together a growing pattern. From the onset of his meeting this woman, Legolas had mentioned several very specific similarities about her that had reminded him of Craban. "Have you spoken to her about your feelings?" 

"Nay! And shall not! 'Tis not time. It may never be time. I should not even be pondering such, seeing that Haldir has been so short departed. It shames me to think such," said the Elf almost in anger.

Aragorn, not wanting to press the Elf further, rose, placing a hand on Legolas's shoulder. "Have patience, Legolas. There is a reason why you two have been cast together. Time will reveal all." Turning, he left the brooding Elf to himself.

Arohtarë had finished her meal and was making her way out of the hall when she felt the elf's presence behind her. He was leaning against the hallway's entrance, arms crossed over his chest, legs crossed at the ankles, gazing at her. She turned then motioned for him to join her. He looked down a moment, then pushed himself away from the wall and glided up to her side, both walking in silence until they got to her door. She turned to face him and took his hands in hers.

"You are angry with me, Legolas, aye?" she asked, then dropped her gaze to the stone floor.

He breathed deeply saying, "Nay Arohtarë, ere, but not now. More so frustrated and confounded."

"Please trust in me as I do in you. All will be made known in good time, I promise."

He turned her face up to meet his gaze. "Aye, Arohtarë, I shall trust in you."

"Good. Then I shall ask that you do not come running for me anymore when you hear strange noises," she giggled.

He smiled warmly and took her in an embrace. "I promise, hiril-nîn."

She looked at him fully and said, "Shall we go polish our sword skills, then? I am in need of practice."

"Aye. I shall enjoy that!" He said brightly, his spirits rising once again.

"I shall join you on the fields presently, once I don my weaponry."

He nodded, kissed her hand and made his way to his quarters. This was more like it. She asked for his company once again. There was a bit of a bounce in his step as he made his way down the stone hall.

Aragorn and Gimli watched the pair make their way to the fields below the Golden Hall, the dwarf gazing after them nervously.

"What troubles you, Master Dwarf?" asked the ranger, noting his friend's concerned expression.

"D'ya think 'ets wise to set these two agin each other with sharps, Aragorn?"

The ranger raised a brow in amusement. "And why say you that?"

"Ay…they have not been too cozy in each other's keep as of late, is all I say."

Aragorn laughed and Gimli grunted in disdain, both looking out at the two now squaring up to each other.

Looking back at the ranger he said, "Well then, me thinks I shall go ta tha fields ta make sure tha wee ones don' kill each other," He took up his axe and left Aragorn laughing to himself.

"I understand that you are quite skilled with a blade, my friend," said Arohtarë drawing her sword and readying her stance.

"I have been told such," acknowledged the Elf, doing the same and smiling slyly.

"If you are not, I shall take ease upon you, for fear of mussing your golden locks!" she jested then giggled.

"Take care marchwarden, as I shall not!" replied the Elf, bowing to the woman across from him. She bowed as well, and they stood in their stances, swords at the ready. Each sized up the other; calculating the reach, and strength the other might possess. Arohtarë knew the Elf's techniques and strength very well, but held her tongue. Gimli came to the edge of the field that the two were positioned upon, and waited nervously for the sparring to begin. He had not long to wait, as the screaming of steel suddenly permeated the crisp morning air.

Though the blows were pulled, they were strong and calculated, falling true to aim. Both moved in fluid motion, with not one movement wasted. His blows were fierce and powerful, executed with the speed and gracefulness of a snake. Hers were of equal power and force, coupled with extreme accuracy, agility and speed. They were well matched, and neither gave ground to the other. He was shocked that she was able to block strikes with techniques that only he would know. Valar! She works the sword hard! he thought, as he parried a well-aimed strike. The match went on for about a half hour, before they both ended their parries and strikes in a draw. Both pulled away from the other slowly, breathing a bit raggedly.

"Well met, Legolas. Truly, you are a fine swordsman. You would have made a wonderful sparring partner in my training days, mellon," she breathed, approaching him and grasping his forearm firmly.

"As are you, hiril-nîn. You have been trained well. Very few have brought me to a draw Arohtarë, and I am not full of bravado when I speak."

"I am sure you are not. I can believe it, Legolas. Truly."

"'Tis grand that ya both are on tha same side!" cried Gimli, as he approached and shook both of their hands.

Another individual, high above the fields, witnessed the match in awe as well. Leaning from his balcony, Théoden King watched the raven-haired she-warrior and the elven prince engage in feigned combat. Her skills, and that of the elf, far surpassed any he had seen in his long mortal lifetime, including those of his own Rohirrim. Perhaps he had been too harsh regarding women in battle. At least, with those that proved they had the skill to fight. After all, his own niece was one of, if not, the best of the sword masters in the Riddermark, yet he had been hesitant to set her to war. If he and Eomer were to fall in this pending battle, she was the only surviving heir to the throne of Rohan. Three of royalty could not fight on the same battlefield. One was needed to carry on.

Her made a mental note to speak with this dark haired woman, and maybe set her with Éowyn. Perhaps his niece could learn a thing or two from her. Mayhap, it would take her mind off of wanting to ride into battle this last time, if indeed battle is where they were headed. She had not spoken to him with the exception of fleeting formalities, since she had emerged from the caves at the Helm, so deep was her anger at him for sending her into them. He winced. This would be difficult, as her stubbornness rivaled that of Eomer. Blast, with the exception of gender, they were so alike. Ay…

Later that evening, Arohtarë was on the Fellowship's balcony practicing with her long knives. Legolas entered the room unnoticed, and watched as the woman went through her paces, spinning the deadly blades as if they were harmless sticks. She went through strikes, parries and movements with her body that he didn't think humanly possible. Her flexibility, agility, and speed rivaled his own and she moved as light and sinuously as a cat. Ai'. A cat. Every move she made was similar to that of a great feline. The only things missing were fur and a tail. He chuckled. She suddenly ceased her ministrations upon hearing it.

"Good eve, Legolas. Did you come to join me for some knife practice, mayhap?" He walked over to the woman and kissed her hand.

"Nay Arohtarë. Mayhap in the morn, when I am fresh."

"'Tis a pity you are not fresh more oft, as you would be much more fun to jest, " she quipped, shrugging with a smile, then moved inside to put the knives back in her harness. Legolas raised a brow in amusement, then a thought came to him.

"May I see those blades a moment, hiril-nîn?"

She froze, trying to think up a reason for her having the blades given to her by her then adar.

"Of course…" she voiced quietly, handing him the pair.

He examined them closely and slowly turned his gaze back up to the woman.

"I have seen these same knives once before, Arohtarë. Many, many years ago…"

He handed them back to her, holding her gaze for a few moments. "There is only one such set ever to have been created in Middle-earth, and they were specially made for the Lórien marchwarden's daughter." 

She took in a short silent breath.

"I know more about them, hiril-nîn…" he continued, watching her expression closely. "They were a gift from her father upon making the Guard. He presented them to her on the steps of Mirkwood's palace, and in the presence of both my father and I, just before departing for their homeland of Lórien..."

He was looking at her with a slow burning fury in his now flaming eyes, angry that she was purposefully withholding something from him.

"...Nigh 150 years ere…" he finished.

She looked back at him calmly and said, "You are correct, Legolas. They were indeed Craban's. They were passed on to me and they are now mine," she said softly, dropped her gaze and taking them from his hands.

She was feeling horrible that she couldn't tell him the whole truth as she turned and made her way to her harness and sheathed them. It was not the right time, and too close to Haldir's death to open her heart once more. Though, it was pounding out of her chest to answer his that had been calling to her since Lórien. She made her way to the chaise, sitting by the gently crackling fire in their quarters.

He was shocked and further angered, not expecting this answer. He had thought that he had finally cornered her into revealing all, and now he could only stare at her in bewilderment. She motioned for him to join her and shifted the conversation deftly.

"Well, 'tis been nigh three weeks since we rode from the Helm and I am feeling a bit confined. Too many people, too much routine without battle, no trees! 'Tis been well nigh past a moon since I have seen Lórien." She sighed and derw her arms around herself. "Ai'! I long for the Mallorn forests, Elda."

He momentarily forgot his frustration and looked at her with a smile. She was the only mortal whom he knew to long for the solitude of trees, other than Craban.

"Aye, Arohtarë, and I long for those of Mirkwood. I too feel confined, and though I am seeing much of Middle-earth, I long for my homeland as well."

"Mayhap when all is said and done we can visit each other's realms, aye?" she said hopefully.

"Twould be wonderful to do, hiril-nîn."

"I would like to see the trees of your realm again, as I would rather live in trees than these cursed stone halls of Men. Though they serve a purpose, there is no warmth in them," she voiced.

"Aye, I agree. Even in the fiercest winds they warm and protect. I have felt such," replied the elf grasping her hand. He blinked and then looked at her blankly. _Did she say 'again'?_

"Then it is agreed. We visit each other's realms. Twill give us something to look forward to after this blasted war ends."

"Agreed." 

He slowly kissed her hand, holding her gaze for a few moments with a questioning gaze of his own. She grasped his forearm as she rose.

"Well, I feel the urge to take my rest, master Elf. I shall see you in the morn? "

"Aye."

Good eve then." She took her leave and made her way to her chambers. 

As she left, Legolas felt a pang of disappointment, wanting to have talked more and keep her company a little longer. He was actually harboring a feeling of loss not having her near him and he felt she was beginning to hold him at bay once again. His mind quickly went back to her knives and her statement. He definitely knew there was something she was purposefully holding back.

Legolas and the Fellowship did not chance to see Arohtarë again the next day, or the one following. It was almost dusk into the third day, when Legolas chanced to see a shadowy figure walking along the Golden Hall's portico. The night air was bitterly chilled and a fierce wind was sweeping over the plains, but this didn't seem to faze whomever it was walking about. As he stepped out onto the stone portico, the figure stopped pacing and stood stock still, their back facing the Elf.

"You have sought me, young prince, have you not?" said a familiar husky voice, no emotion evident in its sound. Legolas didn't answer immediately.

True. He had sought her out these past days but had only chanced upon her at this very moment.

"Aye, the past few days, Arohtarë, but not this eve. I have only chanced upon you by luck on my part."

She turned to face him, green eyes burning in the darkness. He sucked in a sharp breath. 

"Damn those eyes!" he cursed silently, not thinking she could hear.

"You may damn them now golden one but, mayhap, they will prove useful in the days to come," she whispered in a low voice, startling the Elf as to how sharp her hearing was.

He took a few steps forward in her direction then stopped, feeling uneasy and remembering the last time he had approached her with glowing eyes. Sensing his trepidation, Arohtarë sighed, a slight growl emanating from her throat.

"Come Elda. Do not hesitate. Come stand by me if you so desire," she said in a low voice, as calmly as she could muster.

She offered her outstretched hand, which he took gingerly. It felt remarkably warm and soft, softer than he remembered her hands being. And it felt a bit larger than he remembered, as he curled his usually larger hand around it. Her fingers seemed longer as well, and more curved. He knew them as the hands of a warrior, callused and thick in some places, like the pads on her bow-hand fingers and especially her sword hand. It was very strong and sturdy, and had the roughness of years of scarring. She drew him to her side, wrapping them both in her long black cloak. A feeling of extreme warmth enveloped the Elf and he realized that this was why she had not felt the elements. He felt something else too that was unnerving.

Though her body felt soft and warm, there was an unusual firmness beneath the flesh. He was made well aware of the unnatural steel musculature, that literally rippled down her side when she drew him closer to her. Sweet Eru…He had felt this once before……_when I was with……Craban?…..No. Impossible…_ As he stood by her side, he heard the faint rumble of what he thought sounded like purring as she breathed. He felt as if he stood near a fierce beast that was capable of tearing him limb from limb at any moment. He stiffened at the thought, which did not go unnoticed.

"You still fear me golden one," she said softly, but it still startled him. It was a statement not a question.

He remained silent, not quite knowing what to say. Yes, he feared her, he thought, nay he didn't feel she would harm him but…. Ai'. Truth be told, he didn't know what to feel. She turned to face him, green eyes still burning in the night.

"You have nought to fear from me, Legolas, nought, though that will be something that you will have to come to grips with on your own. There are things I am not yet able to share with you, Elda, and my distance from you is one of them. The appearance of my eyes, another."

She waited, giving him an opportunity to speak but he remained silent, gazing into her eyes. 

He could glean nothing from them, as they appeared passive, cold, and not human. He reached his hand to her face, caressing her cheek, causing her to move into his touch and purr slightly. He abruptly pulled his hand away upon hearing the sound. She sighed loudly, almost a hiss, and turned from him, allowing him to move away from her side.

"Go, Legolas. Go before I say that which I shall forever regret," she said with great sadness and anger in her voice.

"Arohtarë, I know not…"

She turned on him, green eyes glaring, angry that he feared her, . "You and I both are not ready for all to be told, Legolas! Go now, before I regret my words and actions!"

He slowly backed away several steps, great hurt and sadness, mingled with fear, clouding his features. His heart twisted within his chest. Feeling his anguish, she called to him.

"Legolas…" she whispered taking a step towards him, her anger gone as swiftly as it appeared. "…Please forgive me. My words. Please do not leave me just yet."

He backed away one more step then stopped. 

"'Tis difficult to hold my tongue when you react this way, Legolas. Do not look upon me as some fell beast because I am not. Of all I wish not to look upon me as such, it is you, my friend. Know that I care for you deeply and would do naught to harm you in any way."

He hesitated a moment then began to move back toward her. She took several steps and they met in the center of the portico, gazing at each other. She waited for him to make the first move, as she didn't want to cause him uneasiness a second time.

He reached out his hands which she took gently in hers, then slowly they drew themselves together in an embrace. Her hands felt as they always had in his, and her eyes were no longer a fierce green. They buried their faces in each other's hair and stood there a long time.

"I will wait you out Arohtarë, but know that this is trying for me," he whispered in her ear as they parted their embrace. 

"'Tis all I can ask of you, my friend." She kissed his cheek and took his hand in hers. "Mayhap it shall become trying still, as a battle looms ahead." She gently squeezed his hands and smiled warmly at him. "I need to take my rest, golden one. I might chance you in the morn if I am so able. Good eve, young prince."

"And to you, m'lady Arohtarë," he said kissing her hand.

He watched until she slowly made her way down the hall and disappeared around a bend, before making his way to the Fellowship's chambers. He would take his rest this eve as well, for he too felt the rumblings of battle on the horizon and he might not be given the chance to rest his head for many nights to come. Arohtarë wearily climbed into bed her head and heart heavy. She prayed for a good night sleep, as she was desperately fatigued from the turmoil of Haldir's passing, and the call of her heart for Legolas. Her eyes were not even closed before memories of the prince's visit flooded back into her dreams.

The next afternoon Legolas caught up with Aragorn as he chanced to be free from his seemingly unending meetings with the king.

"Mae Govannen, Legolas. How goes the day?"

"The day passes well; t'was last eve that sets me unsettled."

The ranger looked at the Elf for a moment then, "What passed last eve?" he asked warily.

"Arohtarë, again. A most unusual encounter."

"Come mellon, walk with me to the stables and tell your tale."

Both walked slowly, as the Elf recounted the happenings of the previous night; Aragorn remaining silent until he had finished. It was quite apparent to the ranger that the woman was trying to slowly reveal herself to the Elf, but Legolas was not taking it well.

"Mayhap you should not show your unease during such encounters, Legolas. She has not torn you limb from limb, as of yet, and I do not see her doing such. She is not vicious, nor will become so in your presence, my friend. Thankfully, that happens only on the battlefield or when she is provoked."

"Ai'. It seems I do provoke her, as she becomes angry with me much of the time."

Aragorn snickered. "...It could be your tireless persistence that vexes her, mellon. T'would vex any soul as you put it forth though, I know 'tis in your nature." Aragorn studied the Elf for a moment. There was something else that troubled the Elda. "You have another trouble that sits ill with you as well?"

The Elf turned to him and sighed. "Aye, Aragorn. I do. I do not think it proper but the feelings are there nonetheless. I am beside myself with guilt for having such thoughts, as he has been gone only nigh three fortnights."

"Ah. Haldir you mean?" 

"Aye."

"And her feelings for you, mellon?"

The Elf sighed again. "I fear I have made things confusing for the woman, so much so that I am at odds to think what she may truly feel. I cannot read her, Aragorn. I cannot sense her emotions and it is frustrating and amazing to me."

"You are falling in love with her, are you not?"

The Elf turned his gaze slowly to the man beside him. He nodded slowly. "This is what I fear, though it feels as though I have always been in love with her."

Most of what Legolas had said Aragorn had known, long before the Elda had come to him this day. It was written all over him and he knew that it was definitely obvious to Arohtarë. More than likely this was her reason for putting distance between them.

She was much more shielded with her emotions than most mortals, and could put that block up at will. The ranger knew very well that she could do many things that would confound Elf and human alike. Legolas didn't know this outright, but was learning slowly, and the hard way. Aragorn knew this was why the Elf couldn't feel her thoughts or emotions. It confounded and hurt him to no end, and when he confronted her, it would come across as frustration. He would come away with his heart aching, not intending to hurt or confuse. He didn't quite know any other way to come across. Elves were notorious for couching their emotions and were quite introverted as a rule. 

Mortals were anything but that, for the most part. The Elf's only weakness, the only place he was lacking as far as the ranger could tell, was where women were concerned. It was most unusual for an Elf his age to be unwed and, as such, he seemed to have little or no experience in the ways of love in general. Aragorn had watched Legolas's interaction with several elle in the time he had known him. When they made known that they were interested in him in ways he was not in them, the whole thing ended in a great misunderstanding; he becoming withdrawn and unapproachable. Yes, he was courteous, kind, gentle, but he had never shown any interest in the fairer sex again while he had known the Elf. Until now. And did he chance upon a most volatile one.

Aragorn chuckled at the thought. Legolas had stumbled upon not only a woman, but also one of the most powerful ones he had ever come to know. She was anything but usual and this would fare poorly with the Elf if he tried to out stubborn or out maneuver her. It was like riding a Warg into a stone battlement. She was not easily pushed into divulging what she didn't want known, and could push back with like ferocity. Legolas also needed to realize that she was not delicate, either physically, mentally or spiritually, though her emotions were just as his. Elvish. She could die of deep grief and felt the far reaching ends of the emotional spectrum, as did he. She truly had the heart and mind of an Elf. 

Aragorn cleared his throat. "Has she spoken to you of her bond with Haldir?" he asked.

"Aye, she has. It seems her grief wanes quickly and she is at odds as to why this should be. It is tormenting her to nigh madness."

"Mayhap this is the war she fights daily, Legolas. She clearly has feelings for you, but she holds guilt that what she holds in her heart for you, dishonors Haldir's memory."

Legolas remained silent for a moment then, "Haldir has released her of their bond, Aragorn. And she cannot face that fact. He had known that there would be another for her if he fell, and he did not wish her to fade after him. She does not wish to acknowledge this, that he has taken this grief from her. I still believe that she secretly desires to follow him into death."

"Can you not blame her, Legolas? They were nearly inseparable for nigh 150 years as husband and wife." 

"I shall not give her the opportunity to do so, Aragorn. Not as long as I have breathe and my heart beats," said the Elf with great determination and passion in his voice.

"I trust that you will not, Legolas. For all our sakes. I will be in her company presently, as I believe the good king is now certain of his future actions."

Legolas rose and bid the ranger good day. Aragorn, shaking his head and chuckling, watched the proud Elf glide down the hall and onto the portico. _Aye. He is in love. Let us hope and pray twill not be the death of him!_ he thought to himself, as he readied his horse for the day.

Over the next few days, Arohtarë appeared for short periods of time in the presence of the Elda, and not nearly enough to bring Legolas comfort in her company. She was kind and personable enough, but there was something there that he couldn't get past. She still held him at a distance, even in his company. He never chanced upon her in the evenings again, since they had met that cold eve almost a week ere. Aragorn noted the Elda's despair growing daily, and seriously hoped that the two of them could reconcile before they all came together on the field of battle. All would need clear heads and focus when that time came. And there would be a great battle, he was certain of it. 

One morning all hell was breaking loose as Arohtarë woke to the cries of, "The beacon is lit! Gondor's beacon calls to Rohan!"

She scrambled onto her balcony to see Aragorn running up the ramp to the Golden Hall, and the soldiers of Rohan scrambling to the stables. She heard hurried footsteps pounding past her door as she hurried to dress and don her armor and weaponry.

"Blast this confounded battle work!" she hissed to herself and cursed in elvish loudly, as a loud and sharp rapping at her door brought more elvish cursing to her lips. 

Legolas had reached out for the handle when he nearly fell into the chambers as Arohtarë yanked the door open violently, flames flashing in her green eyes. She had three pieces of armor in her hands and she tossed one roughly onto the bed followed by more cursing.

In spite of the seriousness of the current atmosphere around them, Legolas let out a rare, long and loud bellow of laughter at the sight and sound of the angry and flustered marchwarden standing before him. She hissed at him in disgust causing more mirth to flow from the Elf.

"It pleases me to see that I provide you such entertainment, you pointy-eared Balrog! Are you here only for the sake of watching the marchwarden go insane, or are you going to help me don this…arrgh! Balls of a wraith!… " She hissed loudly, as the fauld plate she was holding against the cuirass dropped from her hands to the floor. "…Eru forsaken armor!"

He came to her aid, still laughing despite the piercing glares she shot at him.

"I initially came to notify you of the current circumstances, but I see you have need of my harbour elsewhere," he chided, as he held the back plate in place, waiting for her to hand him the culet for her lower back. 

The Captain of the Guard, now fully armored, donned her weaponry quickly, and both were out the door and headed for the Golden Hall in mere moments.

"Thank you for your harbour, Legolas. It seems that I am still in need of someone to dress me!" She laughed, as their horses were brought forth and they mounted them.

He nodded in a slight bow before mounting his steed. The tenseness of the past week between them seemed to melt away this day, and the Elf was feeling a bit more joyful about it. They joined Aragorn, Gimli, Eomer and Théoden at the head of the contingent, and made fast their ride to Dunharrow. The parchment she carried brought duty back into her mind. Arohtarë's mind raced as to what she would be facing when she finally reached the encampment. The 'Dune', as she had called it back when the Rivendell emissary and she spoke, was where her mysterious duty lay.

They rode hard and fast to Dunharrow, as Théoden was anxious to see how many men he would be leading to Gondor. Not enough it turned out. 

"6000 men….'Tis not nearly enough, Legolas," said Arohtarë, as she gazed over the hundreds of tents dotting about the Dun. ''Tis 150 leagues to the Pelennor and we will need more men. Sauron will send nigh half a million fell beasts to level the White City!" she whispered lowly to Legolas, so that the surrounding soldiers could not hear.

"I know, hiril-nîn. So do Aragorn and Théoden King," he whispered back, glancing at the two forlorn looking warriors brooding next to Théoden's tent.

Wanting to be in readiness for her impending meeting, Arohtarë abruptly took her leave from the surprised Elf and made her way to a tent that had been set up for her. Legolas began to protest but she turned and smiled, waiving him off. That irked him to no end. She was distancing herself from him once again. He lifted his chin sharply and then moved off to seek out Gimli.

Once she had gotten herself settled, she dropped wearily to her bed and instantly fell into slumber. Annoyingly, as had been happening for the past month, memories of the prince's visit and her life so long ago infiltrated her dreams.

Arohtarë was stirred from her uneasy slumber late into the evening by the sentry at her tent flap. 

"M'lady?" he whispered. Hearing no answer, the guard spoke a bit more loudly. "M'lady Captain?"

"Aye, sentry?" she finally answered.

"The emissary Eldraid of Imladris, awaits, m'lady."

"Aye, have him enter," she voiced sleepily as she rose to greet him. The sentry's head bobbed out from the tent and Eldraid entered her quarters.

"Ah, Lady Arohtarë. A pleasure once again, albeit it, not how I would prefer to meet considering the circumstances," he said politely.

"Aye, m'lord. T'were it only so. Please, sit," she told him, gesturing to a chair. "Now, tell me. What of this mysterious meeting that I have been called to attend?"

"Within an hour's time, Lord Elrond shall enter this camp shrouded. No one, save Théoden King, shall know of his presence. You must join me in going to the King's tent at that time."

"As you wish. I shall be ready. Is there no more you can speak of this council?"

He rose saying, "Nay m'lady. I have not been given privy to its content." He bowed and quickly left her to herself. She barely had a chance to regain her thoughts, when the sentry announced Legolas's presence. _Dear Eru…not now…_ she thought to herself, "Tell him to…" but it was too late to come up with an excuse. He was already standing within her tent, and he was far from happy.

"Tell me to what, pray tell?" he said greatly annoyed as he stepped into the room, his tall and broad frame filling the doorway. He was determined to get directly to the bottom of this behavior of hers, and was not about to leave her presence until he was satisfied with the effort. She cleared her throat.

"Greetings, Legolas. This is a surprise visit so late into the eve. Here, please, sit," she said gesturing to the chair, as she pulled up another to face him.

"There seems to be much in the way of surprises as of late," he replied a bit caustically, sitting. She knew he was referring to the abrupt leave she had taken hours before, and probably all her other abrupt exits in the past month.

"Please forgive me, Legolas. I had to tend to certain things at that moment. I needed to get things in order and catch a bit of rest before hand," she said sheepishly, seeing that he was not buying into her explanation. Her rendition would just have to do, as she could not tell him what was up. Hell, she didn't even know herself, not that she would have told him anyway.

"Are you well, my friend? You seem a bit, …caustic this eve," she asked a bit tersely.

"Tell me, hiril-nin…"

_Sauron's balls! Do I hate it when he starts like that…I've always hated it…_ she thought. 

"…What cause do you have to avoid me at all costs these past days, nay, fortnights? I do not understand your actions, as we had left on good terms from the Helm, and on the portico several eves ere."

"Ai', for the love of Eru…" she muttered, looking away.

He rose slightly and curled his fingers around her chin, drawing her gaze back to him. "What brings you to invoke deity?" he asked curtly, raising a brow. 

"Legolas, I will try to explain all but …now is not a good time for such, not at all…" as she spoke, Eldraid was announced much earlier than expected. She dropped her head to her hands. _Ai', by the pits of Mordor!….the Elda will be seething upon my taking his leave once again…_ she thought, as Eldraid entered the tent. He immediately raised a brow at seeing the Prince of Mirkwood seated in front of her.

"M'lady?" he asked, bowing slightly to Legolas, and indicating that her time of reckoning was at hand.

"Forgive me, my friend, I must take my leave of you once again. Please, I will explain later!" she pleaded to him over her shoulder as Eldraid literally dragged her hurriedly from the tent.

Legolas sat there perplexed and with a very dark look upon his face.

"By the Valar! This is becoming most infuriating!" he spat, as he left the tent in exasperation.

Eldraid led Arohtarë to Théoden's tent where Aragorn and Lord Elrond were already present. Both rose upon her entrance and Elrond motioned for her to take a seat in front of them. Aragorn had a most quizzical expression upon his face at seeing her enter the tent.

"M'lady Captain, I apologize for keeping you at bay regarding this meeting. Not knowing when it would occur, I thought it best to let things run their course," said Elrond softly.

"'Tis not my place to question your actions, m'lord. I understand fully."

Aragorn was sitting quietly as the two conversed, wondering what her inclusion to their meeting was all about. Arohtarë eyed Aragorn with a 'yes-this-is-the-duty-I-spoke-of' look on her face. Her eyes then drifted to the sword by his side, knowing immediately what it was. Elrond, noting her gaze, nodded silently.

"Andúril, Flame of the West. 'Tis as the Lady said would come to pass," she voiced quietly. Aragorn cocking his head, looked her in the eye with widening eyes and great surprise.

"You knew of Narsil's reforging? You knew that it would be brought here?" he asked in amazement.

She looked at Elrond then back to Aragorn, both nodded slightly.

"Arohtarë has been given the full duties of Haldir, Aragorn. She now holds the connection to Lady Galadriel and Lothloríen. From this moment onward, she shall accompany you and the remainder of the Fellowship, bearing the Lady of Light's guidance with her. She will also become a most valuable entity in the battle at hand Estel, providing a most formidable force to be reckoned with. This you know well about her." 

Aragorn rose and stood in front of the woman, bidding her to rise. He took her in a gentle embrace saying, "Arohtarë, you will face certain death," he whispered close to her her. 

She pulled away from him gently and caught his gaze. "Aragorn. Brother. I have faced death throughout my life and faced it at the Helm most recently. I had no choice in this matter, though, without these new burdens upon my shoulders, I would have fought willingly just the same. The Lady has asked that I remain with you, knowing that many may not return from this war. I did not take the position of warden lightly, Estel. I knew full well that I would have to carry that of Haldir's duties should he fall. This meeting was important, as it would ensure you were well aware of the purpose I was to serve in accompanying you."

Elrond motioned for the two of them to take their seats.

"One last word to you, Aragorn. Had more of the Galadhrim survived the Helm, they would be accompanying you to the Pelennor. Celeborn and Galadriel had decided to bid the survivng warriors home to Lorien, where a great army of fell beasts swell at the borders and outside Dol Guldor. Arohtarë is simply following her original orders. Though Galadriel and Celeborn do not wish to lose their second captain, they are well aware of the sacrifices needed to be taken at this time. She has been instructed to provide whatever assistance that is called of her."

He rose and bid the two to do as well. "Fight hard and strong, m'lady, my son. Our existance depends upon your actions and success. We may not meet again so I bid you journey well, and may the Valar bless you. Namarie."

He embraced each and then hastily made his way from the tent into the night. Aragorn and Arohtarë were left staring at each other for a few moments, as the sound of horse's hooves echoed in the distance. The great Lord began his journey back to Imladris and they were left to ponder their fates.

Aragorn turned from the tent flap, back to Arohtarë standing behind him. He put his arms on her shoulders and kissed her cheek.

"You will fight beside us once again, m'lady," he said somberly.

"It will be an honor to serve you in this way, Aragorn. 'Twill be a fine and honorable way to pass from this life if so called, and I shall do so with no regrets or misgivings."

She then fell silent looking at the ground for a moment.

"Is there something else you wish to speak of hiril-nîn?" asked the ranger. She looked up wearily.

"Aye, Aragorn. Much of which shall shock even you."

He gazed at her with surprise as she sat back down by his side and looked squarely at him.

"Legolas...what has he said to you, mellon...about me, for I know he has approached you on the subject…"


	9. Chapter 9

Text that is between long lines are flashbacks;

Text that is between six stars is conversation taking place in the minds of characters speaking with each other.

Aragorn was taken aback by the directness of her statement. He cleared his throat. "Arohtarë I do not think I would be free to speak of our conversations as …"

She stopped him in mid sentence. "He has spoken to you about similarities he has noted betwixt me and Haldir's daughter, aye?" He stared at her in bewilderment, lips parted slightly.

"Erm…aye…"

She sighed, looking at her feet for a moment then looked up. "The Elf is not mistaken Estel…for I am Haldir's daughter…"

Aragon was rendered absolutely speechless and suffered from verbal shock. He ran his hand through his tousled hair and across his face, then blinked at the woman in disbelief. "Sweet Eru…" She glanced at him calmly, waiting for the initial shock to pass.

"I would not have known…" he stammered.

"Of course you would not have! T'was naught we wished to make greatly known. All of Lórien knew, of course, but it was imperative that no other realms did. Especially Mirkwood…" Her voice trailed off, and the recollection of a recent conversation with the Elf crashed to the forefront of the ranger's mind.

"Legolas met you when and how, hiril-nîn?"

"Nigh 150 years ere when I was 18. He was on a diplomatic mission for his father and spent nigh four months in Lórien. I served as his guide to the city." She smiled as the memories became clear in her mind. Aragorn was literally gaping at the woman.

"That is what Legolas told me…but your name…"

She turned to him. "Several years after Legolas had returned home, my unit came under a heavy and brutal Orc attack on the far northern borders. Due to certain actions that I had taken during that battle, I was given the name 'Arohtarë. My father had been in correspondence with the prince while I was recovering, and told him what had transpired. He did not, however, feel it necessary to tell him of my new name. Haldir had told me that he did not know why he never told him, just the fact that it was to prove wise in the future."

Aragorn hesitated before asking his next question, not certain if it would be too personal in nature. He sighed and decided to ask it anyway. "I wish to ask a question Arohtarë, but you do not have to answer if you do not wish. I know it may prove to be of an intimate nature…"

She chuckled. "Ask Estel. There is very little that can make me blush, my friend!"

He smiled nervously and said, "Legolas did not say out right, and it is only my assumption but,…" He paused, looking up at the woman in uncertainty, who motioned for him to continue. "…It seems you had a very close relationship by the gentle way he speaks of you."

She chuckled again. "If you are trying to ask if we were once lovers, Aragorn, then your assumption is correct, my brother."

His eyes widened then he shook his head chuckling. "There is much I do not know of you it seems Arohtarë. And here I thought I had known you quite well."

"But you do, my friend. And I am trying to allow you to know more now. As with Legolas, certain things could not be divulged for whatever reasons. Now is the time for such to see the light of day."

He nodded. "I had thought that Legolas was a bit er….well, with women…ah…" He threw his hands in the air slightly and looked away.

"I can assure you Aragorn, the pointy-eared whelp is not the naive elfling you have thought him all along to be," she said, almost bellowing with laughter at the absolute shocked and embarrassed look that spread across Aragorn's face.

"You do recall the Solstice Feasts of the Elves do you not?"

He nodded.

"I was 18 when he came to Lorien…"

He looked at her blankly.

"It was my first feast…"

Still what she was saying did not register with him. "I gave him my crown…" she finished.

A moment passed, then she watched his eyes grow wider and a crimson tinge creep up his neck. He was staring at her now, mouth open.

"Aye Aragorn, 'tis true. As my father, Haldir was beside himself not wanting me to attend. In the end however, he and Legolas became good friends and quite close." She paused as she watched Aragorn regain his composure. "I was not faring well, once we returned from Mirkwood, and Haldir pulled me from the grip of fading. Once home, our feelings began to change for one another several years ere."

"You made the trip to Mirkwood? You have seen the Greenwood?"

"Aye, and met King Thranduil as well. I had just made the Guard that month, and my unit was assigned to the travel party. My father made sure I was part of it. And..." She reached beneath he tunic and brought out the mithril necklace. "...Legolas and I gifted each other upon my departure from Mirkwood."

"Valar...He has not seen this?" asked Aragorn in bewilderment, as he lightly traced the jeweled pendant with a finger.

"Nay and nor shall he until he is made aware of the truth." She reached out her hand and rested it lightly upon his arm, and looked directly into his eyes, the deep emotion clearly filling her emerald orbs.

"Promise me, Aragorn, that if some calamity or malice should befall me ere I chance to speak with him, you shall take this from my person. If I should pass, then you must give it to him with the truth. If I live, return it to me and I shall then tell him all myself."

Aragorn thought a moment. Assuredly, he did not wish to be the one to tell the Elf that his true beloved was who he had thought she was all along, but he would do so out of the deep friendship and closeness that he and the mortal shared between them. He sighed. "I swear that I shall do as you bid m'lady, though, upon your passing, twould be with a gravely heavy heart."

"Let us hope that does not come to pass, ere I speak the truth to the Elf. And I thank you for your fielty."

Aragorn continued the previous conversation. "There was something else Legolas mentioned. He was present at your trials and indoctrination into the Guard. He never knew you as a Warden or Captain then, I take it."

"Nay. I made Warden well after I was married, nigh 50 years later. I made Captain nigh 25 years after that. By then I was 93 winters and Legolas would have thought me long past, I suppose."

"Aye…that is what is hurting him the most. He never knew what became of you after the correspondence ended. He did not know of your long life's grace, then?"

"Nay and neither did I. I did not find out until I was 24, when Lady Galadriel summoned me one day."

"Well, this is vexing to me as well, my friend, as I do know you are of the Dunedain, as am I. What I do not understand is how you appear as though you are still in your 20s. Even I have aged past that stage of youth." He gave her a stern look.

She looked back at him, her eyes sparkling brightly. She started laughing lightly saying, "'Tis good you are still sitting, brother…" He cocked his head quizzically at her as she related the story that Galadriel had told her, many years before. By the time she was done, he was in a state of unadulterated shock.

"So you see, mellon, even in 1000 years I shall look relatively the same as I do now. My appearance presently differs enough to have masked my features as when Legolas first met me. I completed my growth at 50 winters, and my features and form were set, just as the elves are at that age."

"I did not know that the Wildeor also contributed to your longevity, Arohtarë, and I am astounded by all that you have told me. But my last question to you is...when shall you end Legolas's torture? He is greatly pained."

She looked away, tears begining to burn in her eyes. "I am not certain I can as of yet, Aragorn, as it would open my heart too soon after Haldir's death. I am struggling to make the right decision as to when."

"I do not wish to sway your thoughts, hiril-nîn but, do not wait too long as this war may take one from the other, before the truth can be told. He loves you dearly and I know verily that you have felt the same for him."

"Aye, I do Aragorn, Truly I do. I always have," she whispered as he embraced her warmly.

"Thank you, hiril-nîn, for entrusting me into your confidence. I am honored."

She stood back suddenly and said, "Ai'! Aragorn! Legolas! By the Valar, the Elf is beside himself in annoyance, nay, fury with me!"

"How so?"

"I have been scarce in his presence, for a myriad of reasons, many of which you now know. But I fear his patience draws thin, due to lack of explanation as to why I have been so…Ai'! And several eves past…" she grimaced.

He chuckled. "Well then, there is time still to seek him out and smooth his feathers, at least in part?"

"I am not so sure about that Estel, but I am certainly going to make an effort to still his heart." She bowed slightly and took her leave. Aragorn shook his head and chuckled as he watched her hurry off to her quarters.

Stalking off to her tent, Arohtarë was muttering unintelligible curses and what nots when she felt a certain Mirkwood elf's presence in the shadow of her quarters. Stopping short, she peered into the darkness and felt his gaze upon her.

"Ai' you silly Elf! Step from the darkness and join me in my quarters, before my sentry mistakes you for an Orc!" she muttered in an acidic tone, as she continued to walk.

He stepped forth, a stern look upon his face and finding no humor in the moment. He followed her into the tent and when she turned to face him, her eyes narrowed. "Oh no. No, no, no. I shall not put up with such a demeanor at this time of eve. Honestly Legolas, there are perfectly good explanations as to why things have been so these past few fortnights!"

She sighed when his face still held a stern and eagle eye intensity to his gaze. To irritate her even further, he had now crossed his arms across his chest and leaned against a tent support, with crossed ankles as well, staring at her like a parent would a naughty child. She rolled her eyes and let out a sharp sigh while removing her quiver harness and sword. As serious and annoyed as he was, Arohtarë thought he struck a most pleasing figure and she couldn't remain exasperated with him for long.

"Here." She passed him a goblet of wine and motioned for him to sit next to her on a chair. He promptly put the goblet down, not sipping from it, and removed his quiver harness, leaning it against a small bench by the foot of the bed. He then sat and turned squarely to face the woman.

"What have I done to cause you to take your leave from me, Arohtarë?"

She breathed a low sigh and dropped her gaze. How do I get out of this? How do I tell him what I am feeling…without telling him how I am feeling? Or who I truly am? What a most inopportune time for personal thoughts to interfere. I have a bloody war to fight, by the Valar!

She drew herself to her full height and in a cold tone, colder than she intended, she said, "Hearken to me carefully Elf, and please do not interrupt until I have finished! I have been contemplating many things and thinking many thoughts. You being in many of them. I have been, and am still, going through much turmoil and I have not had much time to think or contemplate in peace. Your constant watchfulness has caused me slight insanity, as I am unable to piece together a single coherent thought, without your infiltrating my mind. Now, with the additional burden of the Galadhrim upon me, truth be told, you have become a great distraction to me. I am unable to have a clear preponderance while in your presence, and that is a dangerous position for me to be in at this time." She paused and dropped her gaze as she continued.

"I need space, distance from you, my friend. You have done nothing, save speak great truths that eve long ago, and it has caused me much ponderings," she finished, taking a deep breath and awaited his response, if there would even be one. She felt that she had been much too stern with him, but she knew no other way to spit out what she had to say without divulging everything she was feeling. She snuck a glance at the Elf, trying to read his expression but it was unflinching. He remained unreadable as he held his gaze intently upon her.

She looked directly in his eyes, now totally annoyed. "Damnation, Greenleaf! Do not just sit like a stone, glaring! Say something, for the sake of Eru!"

He raised his chin in that arrogant way of his, eyes closing almost to slits and arms still crossed. "Hiril-nîn. There was no need to avoid me. You simply could have spoken such, and not have kept me guessing as to what turmoil was awry. Your absence was concerning to me, seeing the condition you have been in these past fortnights." He rose as if to leave, reaching for his harness and still in a rather foul mood.

"If you do not require my presence or assistance any longer, I shall leave you to yourself. I do not wish to impose myself upon you." He turned to go, but then abruptly turned back to her. "I still hold to my words of watching out for you, Arohtarë. That will not change," he said tersely, bowed slightly and headed out the flap. He didn't get far, as he was firmly yanked back into the tent and deftly guided back to sit on the edge of the bed by his arm. She took his harness from his hands and put it back against the bench. It was Arohtarë who now leveled a gaze of irritation upon the fair Elf.

"If I did not know better, princeling, I would say you are becoming quite territorial and possessive of me," she hissed quietly. He tilted his head quizzically, not realizing that his demeanor came across that way.

"I…"

"Do not interrupt, Elf!" she said in a raised voice. "Damn you, Legolas! I do not need such turmoil in addition to what I now carry! You are making me daft! I feel your presence always! 'Tis as if I am under constant guard and the watchful eye of my Adar!" She paused, trying to quell her rising anger. "I am a grown woman of 165 winters, for the love of Arda, a warrior, for Eru's sake!"

She looked at him through flaming green eyes, a tinge of gold beginning to form around her pupils. "I am not going to fade in front of you Elf! Believe me when I say this. I am making my way back to the world of the living, Legolas!" She began to quiet her voice and sighed deeply. She looked up at him wearily and resigned. His gaze had also softened as they stared at one another for a few moments.

"Forgive me, hiril-nîn, for I did not realize I caused you such unrest. I keep forgetting you have the ability to know when there are those around you," he said, as he looked down sadly. Her heart nearly broke at seeing the pain she had caused him by her words. He was truly a gentle creature by nature and she cringed at the pain her anger was causing him.

"Nay, Legolas. Not unrest, more so you cause my heart to race," she said quietly, stroking a lock of his hair laying over the front of his shoulder. He looked up at her a bit confused, and not believing what he had just heard her say.

Noting his expression, she said, "Aye, Legolas. You heard me well. You cause great upheaval in my heart...good stirrings. I have not wanted to come to terms with these feelings just yet but, mayhap 'tis no better time to do so. Seeing the circumstances." She took his hand in hers, running her thumb over the smooth skin. "This battle to come may be the death of us all."

Still he looked at her in disbelief. "Ai'! What must I do to break you of that gaze?" she asked, gently cupping his face in her hands. He drew in a sharp breath at her gentle touch, totally shocked and caught wholly off guard.

"Tell me truly what you feel in your heart, Legolas of The Northern Realm. You struggled to shroud your feelings once, and I chose to put such out of my mind. 'Tis that fact revealed that has kept me from your sight, my friend, truth be told."

He looked at her silently and in disbelief as she leaned in, barely brushing her lips over his. Truly, he did want this. He had for some time but felt her unreachable, untouchable in her grief. He struggled to control the urge to take her in his arms and was hesitant, thinking that she was mistaking her feelings for her departed with feelings for him.

Terribly conflicted, he involuntarily shirked away from her not truly meaning to. This reaction caused Arohtarë to pull away in confusion as well. Had she read the signs incorrectly? If so, she risked losing the friendship that she had come to cherish above all else. Didn't he let slip his true feelings for her once before? Hadn't he kept a closeness with her, far beyond that of mere friendship? He was even becoming possessive with her, for the sake of Eru! She looked deeply into his eyes. Oh yes, she had read all correctly. It was reflected in his eyes, now a deep midnight blue. It was quite evident that he was struggling with his own thoughts and emotions.

Drawing away from him, Arohtarë steadied her gaze upon his, her own eyes now smoldering with a desire that she tried desperately to hide. Her eyes reminded the Elf of the night they took on the form of a fierce cat. He noted all that was revealed in them and took in a silent breath. She motioned for Legolas to wait a moment, then she rose and made her way to the door of the tent and called to the sentry.

"Argarth," she called quietly.

"Aye m'lady Captain?"

"No one, save Théoden King or Lord Aragorn, is to be admitted this eve. No one. Keep your distance as well, for much will be said that must be kept to only the ears within. Understood?" she said in a firm low voice.

"Aye m'lady Captain. As you command." The sentry moved off and she returned to the confines of the tent.

She returned to sit by Legolas's side, he now gazing at her with an unreadable expression. His eyes were bright but his emotions were not registered within. She took his hands in hers and dropped her gaze to them, sighing softly. Mayhap, she was making a mistake. Mayhap he had pushed his earlier feelings for her out of his mind and only wanted to maintain a close friendship now.

"Please forgive me golden one, for I fear I have committed a grave error in judgment," she whispered, still looking down. "T'was foolish of me to think that what I have been feeling from you was anything but a dear and close friendship." She chuckled sadly. "And me? I have been fighting a war within, wondering what has gone awry to cause my grief to fade so quickly. I hold much guilt for my actions this night, young prince, as I am not sure of what my feelings are anymore." Legolas remained silent while she spoke, watching her intently, his expression still unreadable. She sighed softly again and began to rise.

He gently increased his grip upon her hands, causing her to remain seated in front of him. His gaze was now piercing, as if he were burning her every feature into his memory. There was no mistaking what he was feeling at this moment and his eyes changed from a cerulean to deep midnight blue, in cadence with his emotions. Their glowing intensity was such that Arohtarë had to glance away for a moment. He reached up and curled his fingers around her chin, turning her face back to his.

He did not speak but continued to gaze into her eyes, his head tilted slightly. He followed her jaw line with the back of his hand, up to behind her neck, splaying open his long slender fingers, capturing tendrils of her hair in the process. Slowly, he drew her closer to him, snaking his free arm about her waist until their lips were a mere whisper from each other's. She felt the warmth of his breath upon her skin, causing her to shiver slightly. His touch was as a white-hot flame upon her flesh, as was his breath clashing with hers. As he brushed his lips across hers, she struggled to control passionate urges as her blood began to boil with a level of desire she had never felt before.

"You are not mistaken, lirimier. You have seen the truth in my eyes and I ask only that you realize what path our actions will take us this eve, should we go further…" His breathing was becoming more labored, the passion rising within as he waited for her response. "Are you certain this is what you wish, meleth? There is no turning back."

She struggled to gather her wits and self-control before answering. "I am very well aware of the path and 'tis what I wish, Legolas. I pray that 'tis what you wish as well." He closed his eyes and took in a sharp breath. Yes, it was what he wanted and, yes, he would give her his heart this night.

He opened his eyes and let out the breath he had taken, "I wish…I desire…this…you…meleth-nîn." He brushed his lips against hers once again, hovering, hesitating. She curled her hand around his neck taking in a fistful of his silken locks, and completed the decision for him, crushing her lips to his, kissing him with a passion that he could not help but respond to.

His body moved into the kiss and embrace of its own accord, as a haze descended upon him, clouding his thoughts and mind from nearly all else but the woman in his arms. This action that they now reveled in would unite them past the point of friendship. As an Elf, he should have felt the kiss to be improper, but he didn't. He had long ago contemplated thoughts of how her lips would feel yielding under his, how her body would react to his touch. But had shaken those thoughts far from his mind. This action didn't feel wrong to him at all, but very, very right, as it did a century past in the arms of Craban.

A warmth flared within him as emotions never experienced by him before raged to the surface. He felt it in his belly, in his groin, within his soul. His thumb brushed over her ear as his hand made its way into her thick hair and he heard her breathing quickened. He continued trailing his hand through her hair, fingers occasionally stroking her cheek before disappearing deep into the long onyx locks again. The feel of his hands and fingers in her hair was exquisite and magical, as was his warm, lean and powerful body against hers. His closeness was intoxicating, as she lightly glided her fingers across his soft tunic, feeling hard muscle rippling beneath.

Her fingers brushed a lock of hair back behind his ear, the mere touch of her hand upon its shell elicited a rumble deep within his throat as he tilted his head toward her hand, a wave of pleasure washing over his body. They mutually broke the kiss, gazing into each other's eyes with flaming passion and desire. Arohtarë 's eyes now a deep emerald green flecked with gold.

The climb to uniting their souls had begun, stoked by the flames of a single passionate kiss. Legolas, never having experienced such before, even with Craban, appeared a bit lost as to what was happening to him, though the passion raged in his eyes and he knew full well what he wanted to do.

"Meleth, it is far too long to have been without such comforts," whispered Arohtarë, as she gently laid him back upon the bed and wrapped herself around him. She released a low feral growl from deep within her throat as he passed his hands down her sides, outlining her very distinctive curvesand causing him to jump a bit at the sound. He looked at her searchingly but she just chuckled softly at his reaction.

"You shall come to be used to such, meleth…" she told him softly, as she kissed him passionately once more and began to slowly undo the fastenings of his tunic and draw it open.

He raised himself slightly and looked deeply into her eyes. "Is this what you truly wish, meleth? To bind yourself so soon after your loss? Please, tell me now or we should go no further…" he asked her, in a very low voice, his breathing coming in rasping breaths as his passion boiled to near overflowing. His eyes were closed and his jaw clenched as he struggled to hold onto the last shards of his self-control. She froze at hearing his words, as newly buried thoughts of Haldir welled up and crashed into the forefront of her mind. He felt her tense and then hesitate in her answer. He cursed silently. Sweet Eru, what had he done? She was going to push him away again, he could feel it, and the feeling was twisting itself as a knife in his heart.

She loved him. She had always truly loved him and as much as her mind, body and blood burned for him right at this moment, she couldn't bring herself to go over that edge. Not now. Not yet. Valar, give me strength, please help him understand. Sweet Eru, I love him, deeply. You know this. Help me calm my heart and him to see what time I need. 'Tis too soon, Eru, too soon! Forgive my haste to fill this ache in my heart, she prayed. Legolas looked down upon her. Her eyes were closed and tears were starting to glide down her fair features.

"Lirimier, Arohtarë, meleth. Please do not cry. I did not mean to hurt you. Please, look at me," he whispered, kissing the tears from her face.

She opened her eyes slowly, drawing him down and close to her. "Legolas, meleth, I love you, truly I do golden one. Forgive me for I have acted blindly, I fear. Please allow me time meleth-nîn. I beg of you. I do not want to lose you from my life, as I find I want you in it more each day. Do not feel that I push you away, dear one, for that is not the case. I just cannot take that step, not just yet. I pray you will wait for me, meleth." She spoke haltingly and between soft sobs which tore at the Elf's soul. She loved him. That was all he needed to hear from her lips. Though he was aching to have her this night, to show her how much he loved her, to make her his own, he would wait. He would give her all the time that she needed. Whatever it would take to bring her back into his arms.

Kissing her face and lips softly, he said, "Take what time you need, lirimier. I will wait for you for as long as you need me to. I love you with my life and also do not wish to lose you from it." He tightened his embrace, kissing her tenderly as she responded in kind.

"Stay with me this night, Legolas, for I wish to have you near me. I do not want to be away from you this eve even so."

He smiled warmly. "Aye meleth, I shall stay. We ride to war in a day, Arohtarë, and any comfort we can take in each other's arms will be precious." As he spoke, he rolled over onto his back and drew Arohtarë against his chest, enveloping her in his arms.

"Thank you, my love. You know not what this means to me," she whispered in his ear as she kissed his lips softly.

"Aye, I do. More than you know." He kissed the top of her head, holding her tighter and began drifting off into an elvish slumber, content to know that he did truly love her and the woman in his arms loved him back. Arohtarë sent a silent prayer of thanks to the powers of Arda and drifted off herself.

Both awoke the next morning, thoughts of the past eve in their minds, as well as those of war. Legolas woke first and gazed upon the raven-haired beauty by his side. Though they had not completed the bond, she was already seeping into his soul. He could feel her life force melding with his own and he was gladdened by this feeling. It meant that their pending union was blessed by the Valar. He wondered if this would have been the outcome with Craban as her memory was still vivid in his mind. He traced the outline of her face with the tips of his fingers and chuckled softly as his actions elicited a soft purr from deep in her throat, as she leaned into his touch still asleep. He dipped down and brushed his lips over hers while stroking her hair gently. His actions caused her to stir as her eyes fluttered open to meet his.

"Maer aur, meleth-nîn," he said kissing her gently.

"Aye, 'tis, golden one."

"I hear the camp stir, Arohtarë. 'Tis time to rise hiril-nîn."

"Aye. Unfortunate as it is to leave your side and I hear the sentry approach as well," she sighed as she rose from the bed.

Indeed, Argarth came to inform her of Aragorn's wish to meet with her. She and Legolas made their way to Aragorn's quarters and joined him for a meager breakfast.

"Mae govannen mellyn-nîn. Please, sit and join me," he said to the two as they came through the tent flap. They ate in silence for a bit then Aragorn looked up from his plate and gazed at the woman across from him.

"I am sure you are curious to know as to the reason I have asked you here, aye?"

"Aye. But I am patient." She chuckled as Aragorn smiled, nodding his head.

"No more men have come to Dunharrow during night. What we have now is what we march to the Pelennor with. We are just shy of 7000 men and are in sore need of many more. This is not what I have called you here to hearken to, however." He paused and looked directly at her.

"Arohtarë, you have been assigned command of the first Riddermark which consists of 2000 men. Eomer and Gamling will command the other two. Théoden, of course, will lead the charge."

Legolas raised his brow in surprise knowing Théoden's thoughts about women in battle. Aragorn would have had no problems, as he had known her for many years and knew her skill in the ways of warfare. Théoden King would have had to have been fiercely coerced to have come to this decision.

"With all due respect Aragorn, I am to command part of Théoden's army?" She nearly choked on her food as Aragorn nodded. "Verily! T'would be the day...and would be as likely as my hand-feeding a Warg like a horse!"

Both warriors laughed at her statement with Aragorn shaking his head. "'Tis the truth as I have spoken. And I had naught to do with it. Théoden came to me requesting your presence amidst his warriors. I know not what has made him make such a change in his heart." Both Legolas and Arohtarë stared at the ranger in shock, unable to believe what they had heard.

"Will you both join in my ranks then? And I shall ask Gimli as well," she asked, knowing their answers. Legolas nodded to Aragorn.

Aragorn shot Legolas a sharp stare and curt shake of the head.

She looked at Aragorn wistfully, knowing his future station in life and the sublte motion of his head. "You, good king, can ride and do as you see fit, as far as I am concerned, but t'would be a great honor if you would ride amongst us."

Aragorn stood and made his way to her side, took her hand and kissed her cheek. "T'would be a greater honor for me m'lady, as it t'would be as in the old days." He stepped back slightly. "But I am not certain of my fate as of yet. THere are decisions to be made that are not wholly in my power to make."

She dropped her gaze and smiled softly then looked back up at him. "No matter where fate takes us on this journey, Aragorn, we will all be standing together for a sole cause." She reached for Aragon's forearm saying, "For Haldir, Estel, for the memory of the fallen, the men, the elves, for the free peoples of Middle-earth," clasping his forearm and holding it firmly in a warrior's grip.

"We shall meet Théoden King this eve to inform him of our decision, and plan accordingly. In the meanwhile, rest, the both of you for we ride to war on the morrow." They finished their meal and then rose to depart.

As Arohtarë made to exit the tent, Aragorn took her hand, holding her from leaving. Legolas had exited before her and waited outside. "Arohtarë, m'lady. How do you fare?" She knew his meaning and sighed softly.

"I miss him dearly, Aragorn, I cannot lie. But, I have found myself lifting from the mist of grief. Mayhap, sooner than I have thought possible. I am at a loss to explain it." She looked at the ranger sadly, shaking her head.

"M'lady, this battle may be the death of us all. For you, or any of us, to have the opportunity to find comfort then I would say take it. Do not hesitate. I feared for your fading from this life, but can see now that you no longer are in that place." He paused, waiting for her reaction. Her head was bowed as she listened to him speak, but upon him finishing she raised her head slowly to meet his gaze.

"Haldir, Aragorn, what of him? Shall I simply disregard the life we spent together? Swiftly pass him out of my mind's eye, and go on as if he never existed? How can a bond such as ours fade as it has? I am confused, mellon. Very confused and have little guidance as to what I am to do."

Aragon paused before speaking, knowing that what he would say could very well turn her upon him in anger. Ay! She had done so in the past and he could face it.

"Arohtarë, mellon of many years, please do not grow short with me for what I am to say. Have you thought that Haldir has released you of the bond? Knowing what the future would hold for you? Knowing that which you would face should you have survived the Helm, this war? He was no fool, m'lady. He knew of your future even though you did not. Do you think that the Lady of Light did not know as well?" He paused, sensing the rise in emotion coming from the woman.

"

You are squandering a most blessed chance to spend the rest of your long life in peace and happiness should the war turn in our favor. Even if it does not, you would still have more comfort in the short time you may have in the arms of another. Tell Legolas, Arohtarë. Tell him everything that you have told me. Before it is too late. You have had little peace in your life and this is your chance to have such. What you have not done is honor or respect Haldir's memory, as of yet." He paused, watching her reaction before he continued. She stared at him in stunned silence. "And you spurn this blessing in the face of the Valar. I am also no fool, m'lady. It is clear that Haldir has severed the bond betwixt the both of you, regardless as to whether you accept this fact or not."

Her stare turned into a piercing glare, one that Aragorn knew well and would come.

"How dare you insinuate, nay, accuse, that I have not respected or honored him! That I have spit in the face of the Valar! If you only knew what I have given up, what I have spurned to respect his memory and to honor our bond! No idea! I cannot believe that he would do such a thing!" she spat venomously.

He sat calmly, with eyes closed and his jaw clenched.

"I have thrown away much, the greatest of things just in the past eve to do so. Do not preach to me what is honor and respect! I have done naught but show such!"

Her voice was ragged, and a deep rumble suddenly emerged into the familiar feral growl that Aragorn had come to expect from her anger. Legolas was startled at the volume of her voice and the fell sounds coming from within. He bolted into the tent to see Arohtarë staring Aragorn down with blazing green eyes. Aragorn was sitting calmly at the table seemingly unfazed by her demeanor.

"Aragorn? Arohtarë?" he said in alarm as he looked from one to the other.

She wheeled around to face the Elf and, before he could react, she moved past him and out the flap like a bolt of lightening, nearly knocking him off his well-balanced feet. Legolas turned back towards Aragorn stunned and aghast. "Sweet Eru, Aragorn! What was said betwixt you?"

"Only the truth, mellon. She refuses to face it and, until she does so, she will be tormented to no end."

Legolas paused and then said, "You spoke of their bond." It was a statement.

Aragorn looked at the Elf and nodded. "Aye. I did." They both went to stand outside the tent to determine the direction she had taken but saw nothing. Aragorn glanced down quickly and noted footprints several paces from the flap leading from its entrance. Very large prints were clearly evident in the soft ground.

He prayed silently that the Elf didn't notice and, when he looked up, Legolas was looking in the direction of a large stone outcrop almost half a league from the camp. Faint feral shrieks could be heard coming from that direction. "She runs, Legolas, and I must follow. I shall return before dusk." He ducked back into the tent and emerged with Andúril strapped to his side and his bow and quiver on his back.

"I shall go with you," said the Elf sternly.

"Nay, mellon. I must go alone. T'would not be in your best interests to come. Trust me, Legolas. Do not follow. I will return shortly." And with that, he mounted his horse and swiftly left the camp in the direction the woman had taken.

Legolas stood in mute shock, not quite sure what was happening, only knowing that the woman he loved was deeply grieved and running blindly to Eru only knew where. He fought back the urge to follow after the ranger and tried to still his heart. He felt every emotion emanating from her as she fled the camp, but was perplexed by emotions he had never felt from either mortal or immortal alike. Fear and despair began to creep through his soul and he knew it to be those emotions of Arohtarë's as she fought to hold herself together.

"Forgive me, Aragorn, but I cannot remain here waiting for the outcome of this folly," he said aloud to himself as he ran to his tent and mounted Arod. Gimli was confused by the Elf's unusual behavior but, before he could voice his concern, Legolas bolted out of camp at full gallop and hot on the heels of Aragorn.


	10. Chapter 10

Text that is between long lines are flashbacks;

Text that is between six stars is conversation taking place in the minds of characters speaking with each other.

Arohtarë had found a secluded cavern deep into the stone outcrop. It was pitch black and chilling to the bone, but it suited her perfectly. Her night vision was as clear as being in bright sunlight, and her body temperature was high enough to provide enough warmth to stem the cold from the highest peak of the Misty Mountains. She curled up in the far recesses of the cave sobbing softly, with an occasional low growl permeating the air. How could he say that to her? Haldir loved her more than life itself. He would never release her from their bond in that way. Nay, he would not do such. Never. Her mind reeled over the painful words spoken from her dearest of friends, from the one who was like a brother to her.

What did he say? The Lady had known? Known what? That she, Arohtarë, would love again? That she, Galadriel, knew Haldir would fall? How would Aragorn know such things? Her mind went numb as the stark realization of Estel's words began to form in her mind. Dear Eru! Haldir had confided in him! But how? When? Her thoughts swirled as she tried to think clearly...Of course! After they entered the Helm, when she was speaking with Legolas! Aragorn would not lie or chance at speaking of something he was not certain of. A far distant memory suddenly filled her pain wracked mind...Did not she, herself, chance to behold Legolas in her own future...All those years ere in the Lady's mind bond? She let out a sorrowful gasp which came through as a great feral shriek.

Both Aragorn, and, the unseen Elf close behind him heard clearly. Within an hour, Aragorn reined in his horse and dismounted in front of the outcrop, tethering the steed to a nearby tree. He was about to move to the other side when he was met by Legolas. The ranger closed his eyes and sighed deeply. He knew he had followed. He just wished that the Elf would have shown up a bit later than he did.

"Legolas." 

"Aye Aragorn," he said, as he dismounted from Arod. 

"You should not have come."

"Aye, indeed I should have. She is as much my concern as she is to you. And more so."

The ranger quirked a brow at this statement, quickly realizing what he meant. "She will not be in a state you would wish to behold, mellon. 'Tis best if you wait here until I seek her out."

"I will come. I shall need to face such eventually, whatever this state may be," said the Elf stubbornly, and began following the ranger around the outcrop. 

Aragorn turned abruptly on the Elf and calmly said, "Hearken to me my friend...There are things about Arohtarë that you do not know, and will not know or understand, until she is ready to reveal such to you. If she has not as of yet, then she does not wish you to know. Will you respect her wishes, or add to her torment?" He turned a stern eye upon the Elf who remained steadfast in his demeanor. Hands on his hips, Aragorn shook his head slightly and continued.

"She is torn apart with all that has happened these two moons. That she has not faded this far past his death is remarkable. Seeing you now could dispatch her from us this day. And we are too close to her now to risk such. I know her Legolas, better than you presently. Trust in what I say, mellon." He put his hand on the shoulder of the now visibly angered Elf, in an affort to try and still his heart.

Legolas's expression was as stone, jaw set and flaming blue eyes piercing through the ranger standing before him. She was to be his betrothed. She was in his soul, his heart. He knew her pain. He would not let her slip from his grasp if he could help it, even if it meant hurting her to help her heal. "I shall come," he said firmly through clenched teeth, and Aragorn knew better than to push him further. The Elf will see the folly of his actions soon enough, thought the ranger as he sighed and continued walking.

Hearing soft growls, Aragorn followed the sounds to a low opening in the wall of the cavern they were now in. Legolas was uneasy at being within a confined space, but followed Aragorn closely and without hesitation. The opening was far too small to allow the form of a man to enter. Aragorn knew the form that Arohtarë had to be in, in order for her to have made it through. He looked over his shoulder at the Elf at his back and could see the elf's eyes faintly glowing. "What do you see, Aragorn?" Asked the Elf softly, but his voice carried off of the stone walls. 

There was little light that reached into the large cavern, but just enough for both of them to see each other's form clearly. Aragorn put his finger to his lips indicating silence. If Arohtarë heard the Elf's voice, there was no way to get to her before she made her decision. She would be dead and entombed forever within the secluded cave.

Legolas did not speak from that moment on, as he trusted the ranger to know what he was doing. Aragorn had spoken the truth in saying that he didn't know the woman as well as the ranger did. He held his tongue and followed silently behind. 

"Arohtarë, it is I, Aragorn," said Aragorn softly. A low growl rose from the cave opening, then was followed by a rough voice.

"You should not have come. Why do you not leave me to myself, ranger?" the voice said sharply.

The ranger moved close to the Elf, hoping that only he would hear his words. "Legolas, you must fade into the shadows and shroud your thoughts. Do not let her see or feel your presence until I can lead her from the caves. Promise me this. All will be for naught if she even senses your presence." Legolas reluctantly agreed and backed into the deepest confines of the cavern walls. He closed his mind, slowing his breathing and heart rate; being as if dead.

"Arohtarë, please come back with me. Legolas is beside himself with worry, as am I."

Silence followed. An eerie quiet that chilled the man to his very core. She was thinking, deciding...choosing. She was in the perfect place to still her aching heart and barren soul for eternity. She felt the cold winds of death swirl around her; its calming voice of black peace tease her ears. The lure of endless sleep tempted her, beckoned her, attempted to seduce her into following its siren's song. She closed her eyes as her breathing became ragged. Her fea strained to release itself and follow the beauty in the song of Mandos. Slowly, she began to let it have its way. A great calm began to descend and the sounds of her own breathe and beating heart began to fade from her hearing.

Aragorn heard the sudden drop in volume of her breaths and took in a sharp gasp of air himself and closed his eyes. He felt her leaving. He saw her life's light dim within his healing mind. Quietly, and to himself he began calling to her, "No! Do not follow! Come to the light, child. Come back to us. There is much for you yet in life...Think of Legolas...Think of what your heart tells you..."

Not a sound was heard for what seemed like an age, only the steady drip of water trickling to stone in the background.

Suddenly, Aragorn began to break out in a sweat. He clenching his teeth tightly and leaned heavily against the stone wall, his temples throbbing, as he felt the challenge of the Vala manifest itself.

Mandos was giving her a choice, as she heard the desperate whispers of her dear friend without the cavern's walls. Her mind whispered Haldir's name, but recieved no reply. And her heart twisted. He had abandoned her...left her to fend for herself in a world of Men...loveless, cold and lost...Her soul cried out...

Only Mandos replied...

"Life...or dwelling in my Halls awaiting the Gift of Men, child...'Tis yours to decide..."

She sobbed bitterly. Then Aragorn's voice came back to her, fragmented and desperate. "...back to us, child...Legolas...Life...face the light..."

Long moments passed and not a sound was heard by either man nor Elf. Each nervously awaiting an unknown outcome; one fighting to wrestle the life of a dear friend from the hands of death. Aragorn was bent close to the low opening, straining to hear that from within and struggling to remain conscious, when he at last heard faint movement as something moved closer to the cave mouth. He looked in and stared into two burning, slitted, moss-green eyes peering out at him. 

"Arohtarë, m'lady. Let me help you from this place," Aragorn croaked softly, hoping beyond hope that the Elf was in such a state of stasis the he would not see Arohtarë as she emerged from the cave. A long, black, sinuous form flowed out of the small opening with ease, an impossible feat, except that such a life form was adept at such.

As Arohtarë emerged fully, Aragorn reached down to help her to her feet. He felt the extreme warmth and thickness of her hands, and hoped that she would appear, as she always had, to the eyes of Legolas. He was not looking forward to that encounter at all.

He took the weakened woman in a warm embrace, who returned the affection saying, "Aye, Aragorn. You spoke the truth. I have been blind to that which has taken place." She pulled away from the embrace slightly, and peered into the darkness behind the man, seemingly seeking something. 

Aragorn tried to recapture her attention by saying, "M'lady, let us leave this place. There is no need to tarry any longer. Are you well considering?"

She looked back at the man with deepening eyes. Eyes that had seen only what those between worlds are allowed. "Aye, Estel. I am well. Weary but well. I have been such a fool, brother. Such a fool," she said softly, as they walked slowly from the darkness into the light of day. Arohtarë was unsteady on her feet and leaned heavily upon the man for support. Aragorn grasped her more firmly about the waist, not used to her being in such a weakened state.

"Nay not a fool, Arohtarë, mayhap heartbroken and filled with despair, aye, but you are no more a fool than the Valar. You have been hit hard in both heart and soul, and left empty. But you have been given the chance to fill both again. Take what has been given, m'lady."

She turned to Aragorn outside the cavern and looked him squarely in the eyes.

"Haldir told you all, did he not? When we entered the Helm?" Aragorn took in a deep breath and felt the whisper of a shadow pass behind him in the cavern opening.

"Aye Arohtarë, he did, and with good reason."

She looked at him quizzically.

Aragorn rolled his eyes. "You would neither hearken to nor believe his words. He knew that if he fell you would, mayhap, hearken to me." He chuckled. "Folly in that, Haldir!" he said softly, as he smiled.

Arohtarë chuckled softly as well. "I am stubborn, Aragorn, that I admit." 

"Add to that headstrong, proud, inccorigable, determined and fiercely independent...somewhat like a certain Elf we both know." 

Upon saying such, Legolas emerged from the cavern entrance, a stern look upon his face at hearing the ranger's words. Arohtarë was not as shocked as Aragorn thought she would be upon seeing the Elf standing before her.

"I am none of those things," Legolas said arrogantly.

Both burst out in laughter at seeing his expression. Her features suddenly turned somber as she wondered what the Elf had heard and seen. She looked at Aragorn who shook his head, indicating that Legolas had seen and heard nothing of importance. Aragorn then pursed his lips and looked at the Elf. A silent understanding passed between the two warriors as Aragorn looked back to Arohtarë.

"I take my leave, Arohtarë. I shall see you both soon?" he questioned, as he looked at Legolas expectantly.

"Aye Aragorn. We shall be along presently."

He mounted his horse and rode back in the direction of the camp, leaving the two of them to themselves.

When he had ridden out of sight, Legolas reached out his arms to the woman who hesitated a moment before stepping into them. "Meleth-nîn, has the heaviness been lifted from your heart?" he whispered in her ear, burying his face in her hair and kissing her neck. Arohtarë remained silent for a moment, pondering the ranger's words.

Tell Legolas….before it is too late…

Not hearing an immediate response, the Elf pulled away from the embrace slightly in order to see her face. "Meleth?" He found her gazing away, his call to her bringing her back from her thoughts.

"Ai'! Forgive me, Legolas. My mind wandered a moment. Aye, 'tis a bit lighter now," she whispered, caressing his cheek with the back of her hand. Legolas caught it and pressed it to his lips. She closed her eyes at the touch of them upon her skin. How she had longed for this again.

Her mind floated back to the memories of last eve and chastised herself for being such a fool. Seeing her reaction, he released her hand and dropped his to the small of her back, raising his other to the back of her neck. He tilted his head and drew the woman close until their lips were a breath from each other's.

"Legolas..." she whispered, as he captured her lips with his. She became totally overcome by the intensity of the kiss, causing her knees to buckle and her body to go limp in his arms. Never had she experienced such emotion and want. Truly, her heart was choosing his. She had not felt such, even during their relationship so many years past. It was love, true love. Elvish love, true and instant. Legolas felt her slipping from his arms and steadied her by leaning himself against the stone entrance of the cave, pulling her tighter into the embrace, continuing the kiss even so.

When her knees gave way he followed her, gently lowering her to the ground, still enrapturing her in the kiss. He was now leaning over the woman, cradling her in his arms. "Meleth-nîn, you are in my soul and have captured my heart. I shall not allow you to take leave of me again. I shall fight Sauron himself to hold you in this world, Arohtarë. I need you near me, beside me, for life. Please, tell me what you want, meleth. Tell me if it is your desire to bind with me." 

She remained silent reveling in the newfound emotions, the gentleness, the calming, the great waves of love's light, washing over her. She was totally enraptured by the creature now holding her close. He held her heart in his hands and was seeping into her soul, filling her with great warmth, his arms offering safety and serenity. Her heart began its song of binding, just as it had with Haldir, but in a different way. She and Legolas had been bound from the start, only the Valar had stilled its call. It was not their fates to join then. She understood that now. Everything became clear in several beats of her heart. She would tell him all.

"Meleth?" he called to her softly, caressing her face with butterfly kisses. Arohtarë could barely speak. There was a haze descending over her eyes, her thoughts, her mind. Her ears heard nothing but the pounding of her heart. She slowly opened them to meet the crystal blue pools of the Elf who was destined to become the next, and last, great love of her life.

With tears streaming down her face she spoke. "My golden one, I have never felt such pureness of love and compassion. I have never been brought to such tears. I do not cry. I have never truly cried before Haldir's death. Aye. 'Tis what I desire Legolas Thranduilion. I have been given this grace and peace to my soul. This war could yet rip another from my heart unbound, and I shall not allow that to happen. I desire this binding, meleth. For I do love you deeply." She spoke so softly that the Elf had to strain his ears to hear her.

Slowly he dipped low and kissed her again, softly but with greater passion and desire this time. She moaned softly in his mouth, he taking the kiss deeper in response. After a long moment, he slowly parted from her lips breathing deeply from the passion of their embrace. She, feeling the same effects. "Meleth, know that I yearn greatly for you, that I want you as my own, to take you to the end of your days." He gazed at her intently and with compassion, seeing his thoughts and emotions reflected in her eyes.

Not wanting to shatter the moment, but realizing their absence would go highly noticed, Legolas shook the fervor from his mind and softly whispered that they should be going. Both rose unsteadily to their feet, sharing a final passionate kiss and embrace, before mounting their steeds and hurrying back to camp.

Aragorn and Gimli, pipe in mouth, sat in front of Aragorn's tent watching the two warriors approach in the distance.

"They have reconciled?" asked the dwarf. 

Aragorn, a broad smile breaking across his face nodded, saying, "Aye they have, and seemingly took their leisure in its coming."

Gimli choked on his pipe and eyed the ranger in amusement, his thick brows knitted together. "'Tis 'bout time tha lad found 'is comfort."

Aragorn chuckled as he lit his own pipe, watching as the two rode to Arohtarë 's tent, dismounted and hastily entered. Legolas assisted Arohtarë in donning her armor, after which they met Aragorn and Gimli. All walked to Théoden's tent to discuss the logistics of the coming battle. Aragorn wondered why Arohtarë had on her armor but was not given the opportunity to question her on it. Discussions went into mid eve and, at its conclusion, all went to Arohtarë 's tent. Save Aragorn. Once all the companions were within her quarters, he quietly left his and disappeared into the darkness.

"He leaves for the Dimholt Road; for The Paths of the Dead," said Arohtarë quietly, peering out her tent flap and watching the ranger melt into the night.

"Why in Mordor would e' do that? 'Tis madness!" grunted Gimli, eyes wide. She glanced at the Elf knowingly.

"To summon the Army of the Dead," said Legolas quietly, following the man with his eyes as he slid into the woods.

"Now is the time to follow. He moves like the wind," said Arohtarë as she rushed past the elven warrior and mounted her steed. Gimli had already started out for the direction Aragorn had taken on foot. Legolas mounted Arod and followed the marchwarden. Both drew up quietly behind Aragorn who froze in mid task when he sensed their approach.

"And just where dya think yer goin'?" quipped the dwarf walking towards him.

"Not this time Gimli. This time, you must remain."

"Do you not yet know the stubbornness of dwarves, Aragorn?" asked Legolas, riding up on Arod.

Aragorn pursed his lips at the Elf. "You cannot follow me, my friend. Not this time."

"And why is that, Estel?" Arohtarë chimed in, waiting to be last to vex the ranger.

"Is there no secrecy in this camp, for the love of Arda?" hissed the ranger in resignation.

"Ya kinna do a thing to rid yerself from us. We be coming witcha, laddie..." snorted the dwarf.

"By the Valar!" Aragorn gritted softly to himself and smiled.

"Arohtarë, the First Riddermark. You must remain to lead them."

"Ah, brother, Not to worry. Háma shall hold the command until I return, though Théoden King knows not what I will be returning from. The statement 'Lórien business' has come to be useful to me."

He chuckled and shook his head. He should have known better than to try and sway her when her mind was set. Legolas and Gimli just smiled as the four silently made their way down the Dimholt Road, unseen by all but Eomer and Gamling.

"He leaves us," said Gamling softly to Eomer in alarm.

"Aye. All hope is lost should he enter the halls of the damned. The Haunted Mountain, Dwimorberg. That mountain is evil. We are not the ones to judge his actions. He is not deserting us. Mayhap, he has other methods," said Eomer somberly, wheeling his horse back towards the field of tents. "Come Gamling. There is much still to be done before dawn." Both men rode down to the fields, Gamling looking over his shoulder once more in despair.

The four hunters made their way deep into the mountain. The horses were terrified but held their heads as they were led through the dark passages. They finally came to a cavernous room carved out of the mountain, a stone throne far in front of them. The air was chilled and the smell of hundreds of years of decay hung in the air heavily. Arohtarë watched the Elf intently and knowing this was one of the least favorite places an Elf would want to be. He appeared a bit nervous but focused, no visible emotion on his face. She, however, felt otherwise from him. Trepidation and fear shrouded his heart. She knew that he didn't fear the dead; it was the cave's environment that caused his unrest.

She sent comforting elvish words to him in her mind and watched his reaction, as the words and their effect registered. He turned slowly towards her, a soft and serene smile gracing his lips along with a look of awe. He nodded at her in thanks, then turned back towards the hall. He had sent soothing words of his own and she smiled in recognition. Gimli, hesitant about meeting the dead army, was looking uncomfortably about and Aragorn was as he always was. Silent, focused and his expression unreadable. She, herself, felt right at home in such a place. Though, it was a bit larger than she would usually care a cave to be.

Legolas suddenly felt a soothing calm wash over him, as he stood silently by Aragorn's side. He wasn't sure of what he was feeling or hearing at first, then a look of realization spread across his face. Arohtarë. Their bond. He was amazed at how strong it had become without being completed as of yet. The fact that she was mortal, and able to so strongly send such to him, and receive back, left him bewildered. He slowly turned to face her, sending silent words of love and thanks before he turned back to face the back of the cavern.

Suddenly, a tall transparent figure, ragged and skeletal in appearance, flickered before them dressed in shards of tattered cloth, decaying flesh and muscle hanging from its bones. This was the king of the Army of the Dead. Legolas let loose an arrow that clattered at the back of the cavern, having passed harmlessly through the apparition. After a shaky start to their discussion, Aragorn finally was able to prove to the king that he was who he said he was by producing the sword Andúril. The spectral army and the four warriors made their way from the Paths of the Dead, back out onto the Dimholt Road to the Erech, the hill at the head of the Blackroot Vale in the Morthond Vale.

They marched through Ethring, the township below the wells of Ringló, and on towards Linhir, a township on the River Gilrain, then south through to Umbar, the great haven far to the south of Gondor; haven of the black ships. There, they over took the Corsair ships and sailed north to Pelargir, haven of the Kings of Gondor, and up the Anduin to Harlond, the port and docks of Minas Tirith. Here they battled a contingent of Orcs awaiting the arrival of the Corsairs from the south. Arohtarë battled her way to the front of the fell contingent, and left the army and her companions to make her way swiftly to the First Riddermark, now mustered with the other two contingents of the Rohirrim. Théoden then led the charge which took the Orc army totally by surprise.

Once they had secured the docks, the spectral army and three hunters moved on to the great outlying wall of the Rammas Echorwhich encircled the Pelennor Fields. Meanwhile, Rohan's cavalry regiments charged into the rear flanks of the Orc army taking them by surprise and totally off guard. The fell army did not prepare for a rear attack, thinking that Saurman's troops had decimated the Rohan army at the Helm. The tide of battle seemed to turn in favor of Rohan, until the Nazgûls and Witchking appeared. He cut a swath through man and beast, scattering the Riddermarks to the four winds. The army of the dead, now within the walls, descended upon the fell army in great haste and arriving just in time, as the battle was going ill for Rohan.

Mumakil and Warg ran rampant upon the fields, killing men and beasts as they went. Horses were deathly afraid of Wargs, and the wolf-like creatures took a deadly toll upon the great Maoras. Arohtarë, leading the remainder of the First Riddermark, came upon a small pack of Warg and ordered a portion of her riders to pull bows and take down the riders and beasts as best they could. She was soon joined by Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn as they raced across the bloody fields.

They ran the outer skirts of her battalion, fighting on foot. Arohtarë had just taken down one Warg and rider when three more were making their way toward the three warriors, unnoticed. They being preoccupied with their own private battles, her friends and love would be easily taken out by them in a heartbeat. Wheeling her horse quickly in their direction, Arohtarë thundered past and over the dead and dying, calling out warnings as loudly as she could to them. Her warnings going unheeded, she sheathed her sword and pulled her bow, firing off a half dozen arrows into the myriad of furred and blackened beasts, hitting both riders and Warg alike. She had killed six and their riders, but another three came galloping over the small rise.

Aragorn and Legolas turned in time to see one of the great beasts closing in upon them. Before either of them could react, a great shriek filled the air and a huge black form tore by the two warriors and straight for the Warg in front of them. In a blur of gold and black fur, the attacking Warg lay twitching in the dirt, its throat splayed wide open. Aragorn thanked the Valar for its timely appearance, smiling knowingly, as the Elf stared in disbelief and firing shots at the riders atop the others. The beast was the largest black wildcat Gimli or Legolas had ever beheld. It moved with lightening speed and careened into the second Warg, knocking it onto its back. The cat firmly attached itself to the fell beast's underbelly with its massive claws as the two rolled about the ground, its jaws firmly clamped around the Warg's throat. The Warg managed to right itself, if for a brief moment, before collapsing into a heap at the great cat's feet. Turning back towards the three warriors, the cat began running at full speed, seeing the third Warg circling far behind the group of which they were not aware.

Seeing this, Legolas became alarmed and loaded two arrows, thinking that the cat was now turning upon them and chasing them down. As the massive cat leapt into the air in front of them, Legolas fired before Aragorn could stop him. "No Legolas! Stop! She is ours!" He batted down the Elf's bow but too late. The Elf looked at the ranger in bewilderment, seeing pure fear and great despair in his eyes. "Aragorn, what is it?" Legolas asked in alarm, but the ranger had turned and set off running in the direction of the felled cat.

Even with two arrows deeply impaled within its chest, the cat managed to take the third Warg down and kill it, raking its deadly claws across its throat. But not before sustaining a grave belly wound from the creature. The cat's timing was offset with the impact of the Elf's arrows, allowing the Warg to connect its strike. The noble feline hit the ground on all fours but began staggering slowly from side to side, before collapsing to the dirt gasping and growling, sending up an occasional piercing screech, as it lay writhing in agony. Aragorn was running towards it at full speed followed closely by Legolas and Gimli. The beast was lying on its side, back to the running trio.

As Aragorn came up to it, the form had become smaller with long raven-black hair now tumbling down its side, caked with blood. The shafts of two Lórien arrows protruded from its chest and pulsed in rhythm with each beat of its heart. The fauld plate of the armor was peeled open like a grape, and a deep gash cut across the armor at the belly. The skin showing below the sleeves of its tunic and bracers was black furred, and the paws, which were becoming hands in front of their eyes, held razor-sharp claws at least five inches in length at each finger.

Legolas hit his knees.

The figure, transforming in front of them was Arohtarë. A low growl was heard coming from her throat as Aragorn gently turned her onto her back.

"Pits of Mordor!" cried Gimli, as tears began to well up in the salty warrior's eyes, seeing the wounds and who it was.

"Aragorn! This…this…is Arohtarë!" cried the Elf in great despair. "Sweet Eru...what have I done?" he murmured, head in his hands and rocking on his heels.

Aragorn softly answered,"Aye Legolas. This is Arohtarë. We must get her to the Healing Halls. There is little time and if she makes it to the seventh level, twill be a blessing."

He moved to lift the woman, but Legolas motioned that he would take her. Aragorn bowed his head and stepped back. Legolas mounted a wayward steed that had wandered amongst them, Aragorn and Gimli lifting the woman up to the Elf. He gently took the woman in his arms, pulled her to his chest securely, and hurriedly made his way to the white city.

Gimli and Aragorn mounted her steed and followed behind Legolas as he tore across the blood soaked fields. The Elf rode up the six levels to the citadel at full gallop onto the seventh. Dismounting with her in his arms, he ran as the wind, bursting through the doors of the Healing Halls and calling desperately for a healer. Several stepped forth and directed the Elf to lay her on a bier in a corner. Aragorn joined the healers and then motioned for Legolas and Gimli to leave. Legolas was adamant about remaining and it took all of Aragorn and Gimli's persuasive powers to wrest the stricken elffrom the room. Reluctantly, Legolas allowed Gimli to lead him from the hall and to sit on a bench outside the doors now closed behind them.

"Laddie, ya dina know. Ya canna blame yerself fer what happened," said Gimli putting a strong hand on the Elf's shoulder, trying his best to console his friend.

"What if she dies Gimli? How could I possibly not hold guilt in my heart, knowing that it was I who sent her to her death?" he told him softly. Gimli bowed his head in thought before speaking.

"Come lad. Me thinks a walk under tha stars kin help sooth the soul of a good frien' of mine whilst we wait." Legolas glanced at the dwarf for a moment then rose and walked slowly with Gimli to the citadel ramparts. They walked for a long while in silence until Legolas came to a section of wall that had no parapets, giving an exceptional unobstructed view of the night sky to the horizon.

They stood there in silence for a while when Legolas's voice startled the dwarf. "Gimli, there is more than just guilt I hold in my heart for Arohtarë, my friend," he voiced softly. The dwarf blinked and looked up at his distraught friend in surprise. It was a rare occurrence indeed that the Elf divulged his feelings or state of being, to him, or anyone for that matter.

"Laddie?"

Legolas let out a deep sigh as he looked out over the blood-soaked fields saying, "I love her Gimli. We are to be bound."

The weight of the Elf's words hit the dwarf hard. If anything happened to the woman they all risked losing the Elf to a death from grief. Legolas was smitten by the raven-haired beauty, that was evident, but Gimli had no idea how involved their relationship was until this moment.

"Bound? As in married?" The Elf nodded sadly.

"Well then me boy! Congratulations are in order!" the dwarf said brightly.

"Nay Gimli, her wounds are too grievous. Did you not see the arrows pulse with each beat of her heart? I am cursed to hit true to the mark, always. And that great gash through her belly? How she now lives is beyond my ability to think."

Gimli thought a moment. She was much more than a mere mortal. That had been proven before his own unbeliving eyes. Mayhap it was the qualities of the great cat that keeps her in life? 

He looked back up. "Lad? Mayhap 'tis tha great cat within that holds 'er to us. She is no mere mortal young Princeling, remember that." This seemed to put some hope into the Elf's ancient heart as he looked down at his friend in amazement.

"Gimli, mayhap you are right. I am still coming to grips with the fact that she holds such a creature within her. T'would explain much that has transpired these past few moons." He gazed over to the horizon, now shrouded in the darkness of a moonless night. "Come Gimli. We must return. Mayhap there is some news of how she fares." They hurriedly made their way back to the healing halls.

Rounding the bend in the hallway leading to the hall Legolas stopped dead, Gimli nearly running into him. Aragorn was leaning against the wall outside the doors, head in his hand, eyes tightly closed. He appeared as if he was greatly upset and Legolas's heart sank, a deep sorrow beginning to seep into his soul. He quickly came to the ranger's side and put a hand on his bowed shoulder.

"Estel? What has happened? Is she…" Aragorn raised his head and put a hand on the Elf's arm.


	11. Chapter 11

"Go to her Legolas, stay by her. No more can be done. If she is to live, it will be by her strength and resolve alone..." He paused and bowed his head, his voice cracking slightly. Slowly raising his eyes to the Elf he voiced, "...And by the grace of the Valar."

Legolas felt his heart twist in his chest as he put a hand over his left breast, feeling a great pain sear through him. It was Arohtarë's pain. Aragorn helped him to the woman's bedside, and pulled up a stool next to it.

"Mellon-nîn, you must move past your own grief and heartache. I am not being cruel when I say this, for she can feel your despair, your pain. You now know the power that she possesses. 'Tis these qualities of the great feline that she holds within that give her many of the abilities akin to the Elves, coupled with the fact that she is of my kind, Dunedain. She can feel all from you, even as she walks in death's shadow."

Aragorn sat beside his friend for a moment and placed an arm around the Elf's shoulders.

"Call to her. Sing to her. Give her the comfort of elvish calmness and the words to bring her back to us. She walks within her own pain and darkness, Legolas. You must give her the compassion and love you hold for her in your heart, if she is ever to come from the shadow. You are her only tether to our realm of the living."

Aragorn gently squeezed his shoulder as he rose and then slowly made his way from the room, leaving the Elf and woman alone.

Legolas turned his gaze upon the paled features of the mortal destined to become his wife. She lay here now because she had put herself between them and certain death. He knew that she didn't count on her own comrades to strike her down. He began to feel the deep seated remorse and guilt seep slowly back into the depths of his heart, twisting like a blade, and which had been eating away at him since he brought her to these halls. He closed his eyes, clenching his teeth and bowing his head. How could she ever forgive him if she even survived? Letting out a long breath, he composed himself and took Arohtarë's hand.

Taking Aragorn's words to heart, he began to sing softly; warrior songs of encouragement, strength, victory and endurance. And courting songs of eternal love and happiness. He sang of more pleasant times, and recited ancient elvish stories that they had both been told as children. He sang throughout the night, never leaving her side. He did the same the next eve and the next. Occasionally, he would hear a low growl coming from Arohtarë as she drew ragged breaths. He watched the shallow rise and fall of her chest intently, praying that it would continue through the eve and into the next day.

On the third night, He sat back in his chair leaning his head against its cushions. His mind wandered to the scene on the battlefield as she had attacked the Wargs. Its coat was of the darkest obsidian, covered in shining black iridescent fur. Its body was almost 15 feet in length, not including its almost four-foot long tail. It was a massive animal, powerfully built and of solid muscle that stood nigh four feet at the shoulders on powerful front legs.

Its rear legs were slightly longer, allowing it to leap great heights and distances. Its shoulder width was about three and a half feet wide. For its size, it was set lower to the ground than a Warg. The four eyeteeth were close to four inches in length and set within a most powerful set of jaws. The massive head was solidly set on a long muscular neck that allowed for a great range of motion. All four of the paws were armed with deadly and curved five-inch razor sharp claws when unsheathed. The paws were almost eight inches in width from toe to toe, and the speed and agility with which it moved was unfathomable.

As it had leapt over the trio, it had reached a height of at least 12 feet off of the ground and came down squarely onto the back of the Warg that was attacking the group from the rear. He had watched in awe as the feline rake its claws easily through the tough hide, splaying open both sides of the fell beast's neck. The Warg had fallen instantly. Taking down a Warg was no easy feat, even for another Warg, so this encounter between the great cat and wolf was phenomenal.

His mind then wandered back to a time long ago when he had seen the same devastation done to such a beast. No...four beasts. His eyes grew wide, as he realized that the same kind of creature had to have been with their entourage then. His eyes flicked to Arohtarë's still form. No. It was not possible. She could not be one in the same. She was 165 winters, for the sake of Arda! Craban would have long been dead. No. There had to have been more than one of her kind in Middle-earth. As he pondered, his thoughts meandered to that night Craban had left the camp when he was on his way back to Mirkwood. The dead Wargs were discovered the next morning. He shook his head.

Even mortally wounded, the cat was able to take down the last of the fell beasts before, it too, succumbed to its wounds. Aye. Its wounds. That thought sent renewed grief surging back though him once again. He had given her two of them. Mayhap the ones that would kill her. He ceased singing and let out a soft cry at this constant thought that played over and over in his mind.

At that moment, he was torn from his memories and pain by a soft, small voice in his mind. It sounded very familiar, but so faint that he couldn't place it. It sounded so sad and pleading that it brought tears to his eyes. He was then brought to by the soft call of his name. It was spoken clearly, as if the person speaking were right in front of him. Arohtarë? He settled his mind and listened intently. There it was again. 

"Arohtarë I am here, meleth. Come back to me, lirimier. I am here! Right here!" he cried through his tears. He began to sing to her once more, hoping beyond hope that she would hear him.

She walked aimlessly in halls of darkness, a cool mist upon her face. She followed the sound of an ethereally sweet voice that was singing of strength, love, encouragement. Familiar songs of days long past floated to her ears. She felt as though she had walked for days by the time she saw a faint glow before her. She hastened her step but didn't seem to get any closer to the radiance as the singing ceased. She stopped as the light began to fade.

"No! Please! Whoever you are! Do not stop your song for I have come so far! Please, sing again...it brings me comfort!" she pleaded, as the glimmer faded and was gone. She was surrounded by darkness once again. She felt so alone, cold and forsaken. Where was she anyway?

"Legolas! Where are you, meleth?" she cried out, sinking to the ground in despair. "Legolas!" she cried out once more, his name echoing off of unseen walls.

"Arohtarë I am here, meleth. Come back to me, lirimier. I am here! Right here!" 

She then clearly heard Legolas's voice break through the gloom, followed by that sweet voice singing. It was him! His was the voice she had followed! She stood and began swiftly moving in the direction of the melodious voice. She saw that warm pale glow in front of her once more and she quickened her pace, not wanting to lose it from her sight a second time. The beacon became brighter and she started running toward it until she burst through what seemed to be an open doorway, her eyes blinded by the blue-white brightness. She felt herself falling but was quickly caught up in strong arms, though she still couldn't see. She heard Legolas's voice from a distance speaking words of encouragement and comfort. She struggled to focus her eyes upon a blurred image now appearing before her. 

"Legolas…" Her lips, cracked and bleeding slightly, barely were able to form his name, and her throat was parched as if by the fires of Mordor.

Legolas's attention was drawn from his song to movement on the bed. Arohtarë had stirred and was fighting to open her eyes. "Meleth-nîn…. lirimier, I am here," he whispered as he cradled her head in his arms while sitting on the bed's edge. She gasped in agony as she tried to take a deep breath, searing pain coursing through her chest. He moved himself fully onto the bed behind her, gently raised her up into his arms, and cradled her to his chest. He whispered words of comfort as she struggled to come into consciousness. Slowly her eyes fluttered open trying to focus on his face, but they quickly closed once more.

They were the eyes of a cat, moss green and burning brightly. As if to will herself into the world of the living, she cried out in determination and pain, forcing her eyes to open and stay that way. Flames of pain ripped through her torso and chest causing her to choke as she breathed.

"Legolas…" Her voice was barely a whisper.

The guilt and remorse he had felt in his heart quickly melted away and was replaced by waves of overwhelming joy and relief at seeing the woman awaken. "Aye meleth, 'tis I, hiril-nîn," he whispered, kissing her lips gently.

She weakly raised her hand to his face but hadn't the strength to reach him. Legolas caught her hand and pressed it to his cheek, kissing the inside of her palm. He reached for a water skin by the bedside and tilted it up, forcing her to drink. When she had had enough, he took a small container of soothing balm from a pouch Aragorn had left by the bed, and placed a small amount upon her dry lips. He then took up a soft cloth, dipped it in some of the water from the flask, and bathed her forehead until her eyes flickered closed ans she fell once more into slumber. He kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose voicing softly, "Take your rest, meleth. I shall be here by your side for as long as need be," he told her as he gathered her close.

The next morning, Aragorn and Gimli came to check on the woman and were surprised to see Arohtarë nestled in Legolas's arms, held close as he slept. Not wanting to disturb either, they quietly left the two lovers to themselves. The elf stirred from his slumber as the door closed, and shifted carefully so as to not wake the sleeping woman. Once he was comfortable, he began singing softly once more. This time it was with great joy in his heart, and his voice reflected his happiness. Arohtarë stirred slightly, a soft moan coming from her lips. The Elf stopped his song for a moment, kissed her gently on the lips and said, 'Maer aur, Arohtarë, meleth-nîn," then resumed his singing.

Arohtarë, her ears awakened by his beautiful voice and her eyes filled with his glowing beauty, thanked the Valar that she was still of this earth, and had been given this ethereal creature as her betrothed. His voice was so comforting that it moved her to tears which did not go unnoticed. Legolas looked down at her face, a small smile curled at his lips.

She was still very weak and she indicated that she wished to sit up a bit higher. Legolas ended his song then gently moved her in his arms so that she was closer to his height. She winced at the movement, as she was still in great pain from the wound to her belly, and she couldn't use her left arm for support. Once she was repositioned she sighed softly, looking about the room they were in. She put her hand to her chest in an attempt to quell the throbbing ache that seemed to go right through to her back. Legolas grimaced when she reached to the arrow wounds through her sleeping gown, and more so when she looked up at him questioningly.

"Legolas, what has befallen me? I can...scarcely breathe. What wounds have...have I suffered here?" She nearly squeaked out her words for there was little air reaching her lungs. The Elf hesitated, bowing his head silently, touching his forehead to hers. The pent up emotions of the past nights flooding back to the forefront of his mind. Beside the great pain she was physically enduring, she now felt great anguish coming from the Elf. 

"Meleth, what troubles you?" she breathed weakly, unable to comfort the Elf.

"Arohtarë, I know not how to speak this…" He sighed deeply, his breath catching in his throat. He gently placed his hand over hers that still rested over her heart.

"Forgive me, Arohtarë, for I brought this mischance to befall you. Such has well-nigh killed you," he whispered, his voice breaking.

"I do not understand, Legolas. What...what have you caused to befall me?" she whispered in pain.

He lightly brushed his fingertips over the bandaged places of her chest saying, "These wounds, Arohtarë. T'was I who have stricken you so. I rue the moment when my fingers drew the bow string." Arohtarë blinked at the Elf and drew in a slow painful breath.

"Sweet Eru…" was all she could muster, as Legolas held her tighter, not realizing it until Arohtarë began to shift uncomfortably in his arms. They sat in silence a long while, the uneasiness squirming in his belly unceasingly. He would have preferred her wrath to the silence as it was slowly driving him mad.

The sudden sound of her weak voice caused him to nearly jump from the bed. "'Tis not oft that... one espies a great cat...leaping over one's head in the midst..." She held her hand to her chest, and paused to catch her breath. "...Of battle, good Elf." She looked up to him with love in her eyes.

"Though t'was not in my mind that any would think otherwise...my charge could very well have had the semblance of smite..." She shifted silghtly in his arms. "...If one did not chance to know my intentions," she said quietly, taking his hand. Legolas stared at her in disbelief. She did not despise him after almost killing her? She was not wroth?

"Meleth?" 

"Aye Elf?"

"You still wish me as your betrothed, though I have done such?"

"Ai'..." She nearly choked as she tried to repremand his remark. "...T'was a mischance, Legolas!" She gave him a stern look, causing the Elf to smirk sheepishly. "You did not know t'was I who flew over your head," she scoffed.

"Nay. I did not," he sighed. They sat quietly again for a little while until Legolas broke the silence.

"Truth be told, you are beautiful as a great cat, Arohtarë. Black suits you."

She giggled softly, ignoring the pain flaring up through her lungs and belly. "I was not so inclined to reveal this about myself so soon, Legolas. Mayhap the Valar caused the revelation for me," she voiced, snuggling closer against his chest.

"And quite the daunting sight it was, hiril-nîn. Perchance you try to smite your beloved, fraught with the many surprises you forebear me." He chuckled, wrapping his arms a bit tighter about her shoulders. "When were you to divulge this 'gift', pray tell?"

"When I deemed you would be able to take such a shock and no sooner." 

"Ai', and you deemed I could take it well enough in the midst of battle eh, meleth?" He eyed her comically, brow raised. She giggled again, wincing in pain.

"I was not thinking of your ability to take such at that moment, Legolas." She fell silent for several moments, her eyes closed.

"I was more inclined to keep you and the others from filling the bellies of a pack of Wargs." She opened her eyes again and he saw the familiar green fire he had grown accostomed to. "The truth, be it as it would, had no choice than to bare itself," she said, shifting a bit so she could better see his face.

"I have not heard of such hue shifts, meleth, save that of Sauron himself turning to a wolf," said Legolas quietly.

"There are others, melethron," she said as thoughts of other shifter came to mind.

"There is Beorn, the shape changer. He becomes a bear in the eves and is not fell to the good peoples of our earth."

She indicated to the Elf that she wanted the water flask and as he passed it to her, she continued.

"And there are fell beasts called Were-worms; mysterious beings of the Last Desert, barren lands of the far east of Middle-earth." She paused, took several sips from the flask and handed it back to him. she then wrapped her arms over the Elf's, as they lay lightly across her midsection.

"My kind, the Wildeor, are not fell against the free peoples of Arda, as we fought against Morgoth himself. We are now as few as are the elves and I may very well be the last," she said wistfully.

She winced a bit more as she tried to stretch her sore left shoulder and her stiff legs. "Ai', Legolas. I am weary. Mayhap I shall take some rest. These wounds pain me greatly at present."

He kissed the top of her head and slowly slipped off the edge of the bed, laying her gently against the pillows.

"Take your rest, meleth. I shall come by mid-day," he whispered as he kissed her. She grasped his hand as he rose to leave her saying, "Know that you have given me great comfort and peace, golden one. If not for your voice and song whilst I walked in shadow, I would no longer be of this world."

He knelt back down at her side and gently kissed both her eyes and then her lips. "Im veleth lle, hiril-nîn," he whispered as he rose and left her to her slumber.

He met Aragorn in the hall, as he exited the healing room. "How fares the lady, mellon?" he asked quietly.

"She stirred from the shadows ere eve, but chances to slumber as of yet. She still suffers great pain, but heals. Thank the Valar…" His voice trailing off.

"You do not still blame yourself, I pray?" 

''Tis difficult to not but she does not hold me in account for her condition. As such, my heart is not as heavy," said the Elf dropping his head slightly.

Aragorn put a hand on his shoulder saying, "Betwixt her feline graces and your love, she yet lives among us, Legolas. She had no fey in her actions during the battle, mellon, and if not for her, we ourselves might not be among the living." He held the Elf's gaze for a few moments.

"'Tis not the first time she has come to a comrade's aid in this manner. As Haldir could, and myself can, attest. She is fearless in this way and knows full well the risks of such actions. The first time I beheld such, Haldir had to still my hand as I tried to do yours, for I knew naught of her gift at that time." Legolas stared at the ranger in surprise.

"Aye, Legolas. I t'would have done the same. You were too quick for me to still your actions in time." The Elf smiled at the ranger, the bright glitter returning to his crystal blue eyes.

"Come. I am on my way to the royal hall. We must meet with Gandalf to discuss strategies of quelling the Dark Lord once and forever. This war is not finished by any means, Legolas," Aragorn said to the Elf, as they hurried down the hall.

Arohtarë awoke after several hours of deep sleep and was in the process of stretching her stiff and aching limbs when Legolas appeared in the doorway. He had a forced smile upon his lips and she could tell there was a dark foreboding about him. Her smile at seeing him instantly turned to a slight frown, as she motioned for him to come sit on her bed. He did so with head bowed and shoulders slumped.

"Melethron? Golden one, what troubles you? 'Tis uncommon to see you in such a quandary," she whispered, brushing several strands of silken hair from his face and kissing his cheek. He let out a shallow breath and took both her hands in his.

"There is to be another sortie, Arohtarë. One of finality and, should we fail, all that we have gained, all that we have suffered, will be lost and in vain."

"What is the nature of this sortie that causes such angst, Legolas?"

He noticed that she was able to not only move her left arm and shoulder, but that her hand fully grasped his. She could do no such thing when he left her in the morn. He raised a brow at this but she urged him to continue. 

"We have heard naught from the hobbits Frodo and Sam. Gandalf can no longer see them, as they have passed through the shroud of darkness behind the walls of Mordor. You being indisposed, we could not ask your heed on the subject of our decision." He paused, knowing that she would undoubtedly disagree vehemently with their plan of attack.

"Go on Elf, do not keep me in shadow for I have been there long enough on mine own," she urged.

"The halflings are held from crossing the Plains of Mordor as there are 10,000 orcs betwixt them and Mount Doom. To draw the Eye away from them, we shall be creating a diversion to draw out His troops from Mordor and the Plains. We shall ride to the Black Gate and challenge Sauron to a last battle. Our hope is that He will empty his lands to answer our challenge so that the hobbits can make the Mountain and destroy the One."

Arohtarë stared at the Elf in stunned silence for a long moment, contemplating the reality of what he had just told her. "Sweet Eru…" she finally breathed, wrapping her arms around her knees. "Legolas, this is no plan of attack! 'Tis suicide!"

She then fell silent once more with neither speaking for a long time.

"After some thought, I now understand fully the plan Legolas, and would have agreed should I have been present at this council," she said somberly after a while.

Legolas gave her a surprised glance. He had expected that she would have been beside herself in anger at their solution. "You understand the thought behind such a decision?"

"Aye Legolas, more than you know. T'was the same as when we were sent to the Helm. All knew that most would not return home, if any." She fell silent as Legolas turned her words over in his mind.

"We are expendable when it comes to ridding this world of darkness, Legolas. Nay, we may not win this battle with strength of arms. Twill take the power of the mind to glean our victory, though we all may perish in its wake." She stretched and wiggled her fingers and toes satisfied that she had healed enough to feel her left hand.

"When do we ride?" she said nonchalantly as she reached for her robe and began climbing out of bed. Legolas literally goggled at her, eyes wide with bewilderment.

"We? There will be no 'we', Arohtarë. You cannot ride! You cannot fight! You are too badly wounded and I will not allow you to!"

As she donned her robe she looked up into the Elf's eyes, hers burning with fury and frustration. "Hearken to me Elf! Should this battle be lost, I shall die along with you no matter, as Sauron's wrath shall be swift and complete. After defeating our host, He will come forth to the White City and raze it to the ground in a final act of defiance against the Race of Man. My place is on the battlefield come what may. I shall not die, cowering in a stone tomb of Mannish form, while my friends and betrothed are fighting for their very lives at the Black Gate!"

She stood to her full height, now toe-to-toe with the Elf, the feline strength in her evident as she began to growl lowly. In an icy voice, so cold that it sent a shiver down Legolas's spine, she said very calmly, "Heed my words, Legolas Thranduilion...I take orders from no one, save the Lady of Light and her Lord. I have held command for nigh 135 years of my life while wounded, and well past the condition I now am in.

My powers of healing are not that of mortals and, if you so chose to ask, I would have shown you that I am whole and hale as I stand before you!" she rasped, as she angrily tore through her raiments searching for her gray tunic, black leggings and boots. Legolas watched her, anger welling up in his own eyes at her stubbornness. She would face certain death as would they all, and he could not stand the fact that she would perish in this way. Especially if she did not need to be in the fight to begin with. No one expected her to join them, seeing her condition. His mind failed to pay heed to her profession and under whom she served. He saw her only as his wife-in-waiting at this moment and nothing more.

Finding her clothing, she began to dress, not caring that Legolas was in the room. "What are you doing?" he asked in shock as he hastily turned his back towards her while she dressed. "Have you no modesty?" he quipped.

"Ai' Legolas, when will you realize that I have done so in the field with thousands present. Such is the life of a soldier. A dainty elleth I am not, Princeling, and you should chance to remember such. Besides, there is naught that you have not had chance to behold before."

He held a stoic pose, back turned, but faltered at her last words. By the Valar! What did she just say? He had no chance to respond for she continued. As she spoke, she stopped dressing and looked directly at him. "Meleth, look at me," she said quietly.

"Only if you are decent."

"I am decent enough. Though it matters not. Look at me. Now."

Slowly he turned, checking that she was as she said. What met his eyes was unfathomable. "Arohtarë, your wounds! They are healed! 'Tis not possible! 'Tis only been three days!" he gasped. She stood facing him, her tunic opened down the center. Two angry red scars were visible to the left side of her breastbone. She then held the skirt of her tunic up over her belly and Legolas could see a jagged red line where the open wound had once been, above the waistband of her leggings. He stared at the marks in awe, it still not registering that she was healed.

"When do we ride melethron, for you have yet to answer me," she said eyes flashing, as she continued to dress.

"On the morrow," he said quietly. Once she had donned her boots, she began to make her way from the healing halls and up to her chambers to don her cloak and weapons.

"I will need to have my armor sent to the smithy for repair. I shall try to meet up with Aragorn upon my return from there. Do you wish to join me, or will you remain rooted to the healing chamber floor?" she said as she moved past the Elf. He swiftly caught her wrist and turned her roughly towards him.

"Meleth, you shall surely die!" He nearly hissed the words through clenched teeth. Her gaze softened seeing the despair, fear and hopelessness in his eyes. 

She caressed his cheek with her free hand, drawing his lips to hers. She kissed him gently then pulled away to look at his face. "Meleth, you fear I shall die in vain and needlessly. If this sortie fails, if the little ones fail, all of our fates shall be sealed by death. If we are to fall so that the One may be destroyed, then should it not be together? Fighting for just cause, regardless of the hopelessness of it all? I do not wish to die alone, meleth-nîn, or away from your side," she said softly as she kissed him once more.

He released her wrist and took her roughly into his arms as she kissed him, each holding the other as if it would be the last time they did so.

"Tolo," she whispered as she led him to the doorway. "I need to prepare, as do you. Let us put things at the ready and then put our minds to rest for the little time we shall have together before we ride. All we have is this eve, meleth. Every moment we share is precious now. I have been at this threshold too many times as a guardian of Lorien. If this is to be my last, then I desire it to be as your mate, golden one."

He reached for her face, cupping her cheek in his palm and traced the contours with the back of his fingers. He buried his hand in her hair, combing his fingers through the thick raven locks and to the back of her neck, drawing her into a passionate kiss. Parting, they silently walked hand in hand to her chambers where they gathered up her armor and weaponry and headed to the armory. Once her armor was left with the smithy, they made their way to the feasting hall where they met up with Aragorn, Gimli, Gandalf and Eomer. All stood at their approach and stared in disbelief at the sight of Arohtarë. All, save Aragorn who just smiled broadly. 

"Lassie! Ya are hale! 'Tis a miracle 'tis!" said the dwarf happily, kissing her hand. Eomer and Gandalf did the same, with Aragorn taking her into a warm embrace.

"You have come back to us m'lady," he said softly in her ear as they hugged. As they did so, he slipped the jeweled necklace into her tunic, the action gone unseen by all.

Silently acknowledging his action, she pulled back slightly saying, "Aye I have. And I shall not leave your sides again. I shall stand with you on the morrow."

Aragorn stiffened upon hearing her words, knowing that she would but not wanting to hear her say so.

"You know all?" asked the ranger, eying Legolas.

"Aye, and I understand the reasoning behind such. I am in agreement with your decision."

Aragorn nodded silently. All of her years as a strategist for the Galadhrim gave him confidence that the decision the group had come to was the right one. Hopeless as it might seem. The outcome of their efforts was what was important and her words gave him hope.

Wanting to lighten the mood swiftly, she turned to the others asking if they were in need of large quantities of ale as was she, what, after fighting a pack of Wargs and spending her last few days cooped up in a stone prison. They all laughed and nodded in agreement as she signaled for a maiden to serve their table.

As the feasting and merry making wound down, Aragorn took Arohtarë aside. They walked out onto the citadel's ramparts arm in arm, past the dead White Tree and to the far end of the concourse. They leaned against the gleaming white stonework in silence before Aragorn spoke.

"So hiril-nîn, we face death together once again," he said softly, turning to the tall woman beside him.

"Aye, so we do, good king. 'Tis something one seems to get used to if faced enough times." He chuckled at the levity in her voice. She had always seemed to be able to make a solemn or serious moment less so.

"You have not had so much ale that your mind is fogged for the morrow, I pray?" he asked then chuckled.

"I should say not, ranger! If any should know better 'tis you, that I can hold my ale with the best of them. If time allowed, I would have challenged the dwarf to a contest!" He laughed loudly this time, remembering the contest Legolas and Gimli had in Rohan. She most certainly would have held her own there.

She continued. "Ai' Aragorn, many a time Haldir, his brothers, and I would have such contests. Now, those were sights to see!" She laughed, gazing over the fields below. 

"Three disturbingly besotted march wardens, one a Captain no less, being led like puppies by a lady guardian and Second Captain, who had as much or more to quaff than they, staggering and singing bards of bawdyness through the paths of Lórien! I, still walking straight and not a slur on the tongue. Course, the morns after were bastardly and not for the timid to meet, mind you, but I still put them all away and held my cups!" She laughed as the memories floated through her mind.

"Haldir did not know that I had had much practice before I married him, as he could not for the life of him figure how I would stay so steady. I even bested him once on the archery field after such a night of carousing! Ai'! He would have throttled me himself if he knew of the contests I partook of in my early teens. Ha! I was 15 when I had my first taste of honeyed wine in the company of his brothers. He would have killed the both of them if he had known, or at the very least, put them on 1,000-year border patrols without leave… T'would have been locked in my chambers till the night we wed if he had known."

Aragorn was still chuckling.

Catching his breath, he turned back towards the woman and took her hand in his. "M'lady, you bring mirth to a darkened place. I cherish this time with you. I feel that much has been wasted, as I have not been able to be much in the way of company. You seem much happier these days considering all that has happened."

She gazed at him for a moment before she lowered her gaze a bit sheepishly.

She laughed lowly. "Aye Aragorn. I am happy though it carries a bittersweet taste. The damn Elf has reworked his blasted elvish magic on my soul, and captured my heart all over again. Though my heart never forgot his. If you can believe that. He is much of the reason I stand before you Estel, and you know this to be true."

He nodded. "Aye. I do, but does he?"

She giggled, looked down and kicked at a stone. "He will this eve …"

Aragorn was used to her occasional roguishness, but this comment blind-sided him. He looked at her, first with shock, and then with a mischievous glint in his eye. He promptly burst into a great bellow of laughter. Arohtarë had not seen him in such mirth for an age, and was pleased that she could bring him such jest. She joined heartily in the laughter. So loud it was, that Gimli and Legolas heard them all the way to the feasting hall and were peering into the darkness looking for the merry makers.

"You would not do such a thing…" he chided.

"Aye I shall, and with both hands."

"Ai'! Do not kill him, for the sake of Arda! For we shall need him come the morn!" Aragorn chuckled and fell into another peal of laughter. 

"Worry not Estel, for I shall send him into battle hale and whole, me by his side, and he quite mirthful," she quipped looking over her shoulder, as she slowly made her way back to the citadel, leaving the ranger to gather his wits.

"What was that all about, Lass? " asked Gimli as she came chuckling to their side.

"Not to worry Master Dwarf. We were just reliving old memories of happier times gone by….and those yet to come…" she said, glancing quickly at Legolas.

"Ah," he said, not quite understanding the second part of what she said, or the glance she gave the Elf. He stared after her quizzically then turned back to peering at the ranger now making his way towards them.

"Are you to follow, Elf, or shall you become a part of the stonework you lean upon?" called the Marchwarden as she made her way through the hall.

Aragorn glanced in her direction, then at the Elf. "You should not keep the Marchwarden waiting, mellon. Her patience ebbs with each step," he said and began chuckling as Legolas gave him a most quizzical look, his head tilted questioningly. Aragorn just laughed as the Elf sidled him a glance, pushed himself off of the wall, and went after her.


	12. Chapter 12

What Once Was Divided

When Arohtarë entered her chambers, she found her armor fully repaired and lying on the bed, along with a new cache of arrows. Apparently, those who had been tending to the dead at the Helm had collected elvish arrows, and the smithy sent many up with her panoply. There had to be over 200 deadly shafts in several bound sheaves lying before her. A parchment accompanied them stating that, if more were required, there were plenty to be had in the armory. As she finished reading the note there was a light rapping on the door.

"Tolo!" she called, as she began examining her battle work. The door opened and Legolas stepped through the threshold.

"Hiril-nin," he said softly, as she turned to face him and kissed the Elf in welcome before returning to her task. Legolas's gaze swept over the panoply and weaponry laid out, his eyes wide in surprise. He let out a short breath as he ran his fingers over a sheaf.

"So many Lórien arrows, meleth. From whence did they come?" he asked, picking up a bundle.

"From the smithy. 'Tis apparent someone collected them off of the Orc dead from the Helm, and they traveled to Gondor with him. He tells me there are many, many more if we so need them. I was to ask for the same amount for you presently, meleth-nîn."

"Dolle lle, meleth, for I am short by many," he said, returning the arrows to the bed.

"So it shall be." She went to the door and called the sentry. "Argarth!"

"Aye m'lady Captain," came the reply as the sentry came quickly to the door.

"Please send word to the smithy to send up another four sheaves of elven arrows. Should you receive no answer from me upon your return, please leave the bundles without the door."

"By your command, m'lady Captain." Argarth saluted and swiftly disappeared down the darkened hall to do the lady's bidding as she called "Thank you, " after him.

She closed the door and returned to the side of the bed where her armament lay. An armor stand had been sent to her quarters with her accoutrements, and she began hanging the plating upon it. Legolas had taken up a bottle of wine from the table and was pouring two goblets while she did so. He put the goblets down for a few moments to remove his quiver harness, cloak, outer green tunic, and boots. Now clad in his silvery blue under tunic, and leggings, he laid his clothing over the chest at the foot of the bed, leaning his harness against it.

Since she was not yet done with her tasks, he moved to sit upon the chaise in front of the fire he had just stoked and, as he sipped his wine, he watched Arohtarë while she moved about the room. He had never really had the opportunity to study her closely, and was just now finding how fluid and deft her movements were. She nearly floated over the floor, Elf-like, with graceful, feline beauty as she walked, going to and from the bed and stand. Even the tiniest of movements were precise as was no wasted motion in her actions.

She was beautiful. And strong. Powerful. She radiated power. There was something very familiar in the way she moved, this fact vexing him as to why this was so. He found himself looking at her with a feral gleam of his own in his eyes, as he cleared his throat softly, trying to chase from his mind the erotic thoughts raging through it. Ai'! By the Valar! This is so very unlike myself! At least for the past yen or so... he thought, as he knocked back the rest of the wine, sputtered slightly, and poured himself another draught with an imperceptibly unsteady hand.

Finished mounting her panoply, Arohtarë sighed softly and turned to look at the seemingly relaxed Elf serenely sipping his wine. He lifted a goblet to her as she moved to sit by his side. "Well then, I believe all is in order," she said wistfully, looking over her shoulder at the stand. "Ai'! This weaponry!" she hissed as she sat, forgetting that she still had her sword and harness wrapped about her. The sword rose up under her arm and dug painfully into her ribs, and the harness on her back dug into her spine.

She cursed silently as Legolas hiding a chuckle while she stood and removed the weaponry, leaning all against the chest at the foot of the bed next to his. She removed her cloak, outer tunic, and black boots, lying all next to the Elf's on the chest. She was now clad in her gray Lórien under tunic and leggings. Leaning back at the waist, hands on her hips, she stretched her back, then bent forward and touched the floor in front of her, palms flat, legs straight, remaining there for several moments as mute popping sounds emanated from her joints. Legolas raised a brow in amusement at the sounds. "Ai'! That felt wonderful!" she said as she finally sat down and took her goblet from Legolas's outstretched hand. He peered at her over his goblet rim as he sipped, blue eyes glittering in the pale firelight, studying her intently.

She caught his gaze and returned it in like as he put his cup down and took hers, resting it beside his own. He sat back on the chaise, stretching his left arm over its back, beckoning for her to move closer. She giggled and did so, curling into his chest and kissing his neck. He stroked her hair and cheek, which elicited soft purring from her throat. He chuckled at the sound which no longer made him nervous. He actually found the sound comforting to him, and he much preferred hearing it to feral shrieks. She took his free hand and drew it over her heart beneath her own hand, he feeling both the vibration of the purring and the steady beat of her heart. The combined sensations were calming and soothed him. His mind eased as he took her up in a warm embrace, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss.

Parting, she moved over him, pushing him gently into the chaise's cushions and resting both hands and her cheek against his chest. She felt the firm musculature rippling under the silky fabric of his tunic, and the pendant which he wore, as she passed her hands over his chest and up to his face. She toyed with one of his braids for a moment then moved her hand along his jaw line, tracing its contour to his gently pointed ear. She lightly traced the outline of its shell as Legolas slid his eyes closed, drew in a sharp breath, and let out a soft moan. She smiled seeing his reaction, then barely brushed her lips across it, lightly tracing its outline with the tip of her tongue. A strong shiver passed through the Elf as she did so, his eyes snapping open. They were the deepest of cerulean blue, dark as midnight, and filled with passion and desire. He was breathing heavily and gazing at her intently, his arms wrapping tighter around her waist.

She lifted herself up slightly and began caressing his chest as she slowly unfastened the clasps on his tunic. As she did so, she stopped suddenly when she saw the familiar golden pendant lying against his fair skin. It was the first time she had laid eyes upon it since she had given it to him nigh 150 years ere. She traced the outline of the mallorn leaf with her fingers and looked up when Legolas stilled her hand. His brow was furrowed in concern, laced with a bit of annoyance. 

"Bena car nîn," she said softly. My husband's house...

Thinking that she was questioning its origin, he answered, "T'was a gift to me many years past, Arohtarë. I vowed never to remove it. Nor shall I to this day."

"I would never ask you to do such, meleth. I did not even need an explanation," she said as she sat up and took in a deep breath. "There is only one who could have given you this, melethron, and you must have loved her deeply," she voiced softly.

"Aye. I did."

"She was Haldir's daughter, Craban," she told him in a whisper as she gazed directly up into his face. His features remained stoic and unreadable until those words were spoken, and his eyes locked firecely with her gaze as they tumbled from her lips.

He took a ragged breath and ground out a rough "Aye," as he broke the gaze and sat upright while freeing her from his embrace. A trace of alarm and uncertainty passed across her features and she wondered if she was treading too closely upon the edge of his emotions with her chosen words. But she chose to continue upon her chosen subject.

"A mortal as am I…" she murmmered weakly as she sat up along with him.

He paused in his movements and sighed with his head bowed. "Aye." His eyes slowly met hers once more, great pain within them mingled with a slow burning anger that she had never seen before. Why was he so impassioned, she wondered. What had she said that was so hurtful or terrible for him to get so upset? She swallowed. Unrest was the last thing she had wanted to cause him and she cursed silently that she did not have the finesse of her friend Brannielle when it came to such delicate issues.

She looked at the pendant once again, unable to help herself from tracing its outline and drawing her fingers over the house emblem. He looked at her curiously through his slow boiling rage, wondering why it was so interesting to her, while he kept his rising anger at bay. Did she not realize the anguish and pain she caused with her words? What this stirring up of memories long laid to rest was doing to him? That it caused his heart to wrench with every mention of the word "Craban?" That he was at his limit of knowing somehow that she held something from him that could quell the pain instantly, yet she had evaded him at every turn? Maddening is what it was. He clenched his jaw and roughly pushed her hand away from the pendant.

She looked up with fear in her eyes, finally seeing the depth of his emotions welling up within his now deepening and angry eyes.

She withdrew her hand and clasped both of hers in her lap, biting her lip. She was aware of his eyes burning glare upon her as she contemplated her next actions. Her mind drifted to the day that she had given it to him, and to the conversation she and Haldir had during their bittersweet return to Lórien. Even with her head bowed slightly, Legolas noted that her eyes had a far away look to them and wished for the power to read her thoughts. After several moments, her tear and fear filled eyes drifted back to his. 

Seeing her demeanor degrade into an emotion he had never seen from her, his eyes softened and his anger abated ever so slightly as he took hold of his emotions and voiced as softly as he could, "Did you chance to know her, Arohtarë?" 

"Aye, I did," she whispered.

His heart skipped a beat upon hearing her answer and his anger melted into an anxious quiver in his belly. "What did she look like when you saw her last, meleth?" he continued with all of the emotional control he could muster.

"She was a woman of 22 winters then."

This puzzled him greatly. Arohtarë would have been about that age. He frowned, his annoyance begining to rise again.

"I take it you knew her when she passed?" He said a bit more curtly than he truly meant and she caught the edge in his voice. This was not going as she had planned. Not at all, and she regreted her decision to tell him all. But as she waivered between whether to continue or not, Aragorn's words came back to her and her strength renewed.

"Aye, she passed that same year."

His heart twisted in his chest and he let out a sharp gasp. "It cannot be! Haldir wrote and told me that she had recovered from her wounds!" His reply was scathing and laced with rage as he grasped her by the upper arms with such speed that even she could not evade. His grip was like steel and she winced as his iron-like fingers closed around her biceps.

"Aye, she did, but passed later that season," she choked, as tears welled up in her eyes. 

He shifted slightly, his grip tightening ever so slightly as his voice became low with emotion and held a dangerous edge. "I would have known if she had, Arohtarë, for I never received the gift I had given her. She had told me that, if she passed before we were reunited, she would have it sent back to me." 

Even through her discomfort, Arohtarë smiled as a lone tear drifted down her cheek. She reached out with strength of her own, and took the pendant gently in her hand as she lookied up at the Elf's face, his astonishment in her ability to move so freely in his grasp clearly evident. He found no humor in his words to her, yet she smiled. She took in a breath and then gazed intently into his eyes.

"Meleth-nîn, if you had received it, twould mean that I would not be with you now." 

He blinked, not expecting such an answer and was wholly confused. "I do not understand, Arohtarë...You just said she had passed," he told her with disbelief in his voice as his grip upon her arms released slightly.

"Aye, I did indeed say such. The one known as Craban died those many years ago...

...and became...

…Arohtarë." 

The Elf froze in mid-breath and thought that his heart would cease to beat. He stared at the woman intently, unable to speak or move. Memories of the day he received the letter telling of her wounding, came back as if it were yesterday. After a few moments, he finally managed to pull in a breath and form a coherent sentence, but just barely.

"Arohtarë, what are you saying? You...are she?"

She nodded with a smile and looked down at his hands still grasping her. His face cleared of his rage and he felt fully unmanned. He had been hurting her! He quickly released her and began rubbing her arms where angry red welts had formed under his fingertips. "Forgive me, meleth. Please forgive me..." he drew her against him, burying his face in her hair. She stroked his long tresses and ran her hands over his upper back in soothing circles. "It is aright, Legolas. If aught, all of this is wholly my fault. I should never have kept such from you for so long..."

She then gently pulled away from the Elf and reached beneath her tunic, slowly drawing out his mother's Mithril necklace. He stared at it in shock for a very long time, unable to even touch it. His heart began to beat faster and he felt as though it would pound out of his chest.

"Craban!" he finally whispered, taking her face in his hands, exploring her features as if it were the first time he had seen her face.

"'Tis I love, truly," she breathed, leaning in and capturing his lips softly.

"All these years...so much time has past. Why did you not…Ai'..I suppose we could not then…" his voice trailing off.

"I wanted so much to tell you everything sooner, but the grief was too close to my heart to let it open so soon. Please forgive me, meleth-nîn, for hurting you. I had never meant for it to happen like this…" she murmured, holding back tears.

A thought suddenly crashed into his mind. Legolas's jaw dropped and his mind went momentarily numb. By the Valar! What else could this woman tell me, that could cause me yet another small death? he thought, as he fought to, once again, regain his usual stoic composure and demeanor. 

He looked up at her, a dazed expression on his face. "You married your Adar? Ai'…" he gasped.

"You silly Elf! 'Tis not like we were related by blood! Why should we not have been able to fall in love? Pray, tell me that!"

She chuckled as he thought about it.

Ai', by Eru why not? Come to think of it. She was beautiful, she was of fiery spirit, strong of mind and body, graceful, the fiercest woman he had ever met, and she was a phenomenal fighter. Why would the March Warden not be taken by her? After all, Haldir knew her better than anyone in all of Lórien, and they had loved each other since her first breaths.

It could very well have been looked at as a match made in Valinor. Aright…he'd give her that one.

"How did…erm…when…Ai'…" he stammered.

"No matter. It happened, melethron. We loved each other dearly. Both our hearts gradually changed their songs from father to husband, from daughter to wife. What you wear in that pendant is the closest thing to my heart that I have left of him, meleth. I lost both a father and husband that night, Legolas. My grief was doubled and now you understand."

He gazed at her in amazement. "My heart would not lie to me, Arohtarë. It knew who you were, though my mind refused to believe. From the moment you entered the Helm, it began its song. Your heart was yearning as well for I felt it. I heard it sing. What I feel for you now is more than anything I had ever felt when we were together so long ago."

"I feel the same, Legolas. When I watched you in Lorien, with the rest of the fellowship, I nearly died right then. Though I loved Haldir more than life, my heart yearned to sing our song, your song, but I would not let it. I had to keep my distance, as I knew you were curious about me. I left for the borders several days after you arrived, Haldir understanding fully. I did not return until you were well on your way to Rohan over a moon later. He knew that we would be reunited someday. He always knew. As did the Lady." 

Legolas thought a moment then looked up at her with wonder. "T'was you that stilled the Wargs from attacking our camp that night, Arohtarë…" he whispered.

"Aye, meleth, t'was I."

"All that blood covering your clothing, down by the pond that next day…"

"Warg blood, meleth. I still have that tunic and cloak to this day, Legolas. I use it when on the practice fields," she giggled. He pulled her closer.

"I truly did not know that much about you as I had thought back then, meleth," he said sadly looking into her emerald eyes.

"Do not feel that the reason was meant to deceive you, for t'was not. Haldir and I felt it would be better if you or your guards did not know. He feared that either would have shot at me, not understanding who and what I was at the time."

He continued to hold her gaze, his eyes becoming a bit colder. "You did not tell me of your life's grace, Arohtarë; that hurts the most. I have thought you long past all these years…"

She took his hands in hers, tears glittering in her eyes.

"Meleth, I did not know of this myself, and only found out shortly after our correspondence had ceased. A year ot so after I had returned to duty, the Lady called me to her and told me of things that I could only have imagined. T'was about the time that Haldir"s and my heart were changing their songs, and I was in great turmoil. She walked within my mind and I saw much. Among all that I beheld that day, I saw the marriage of Haldir and myself, and I saw you and I together after much time had past. T'would have served no purpose to tell you such things, as I was to be married. T'would have killed you to have known, and Haldir and I both knew that. No correspondence was received from Mirkwood for a yen as it was, and life went on."

She lay closer against him, laying her head against his chest and rubbing her cheek against the silky material of his tunic. He tightened his embrace about her.

"Know that you had never left my heart or mind, Legolas. Never. I had to push memories, and the calling of my heart, to the farthest reaches of my mind, meleth. But you were always there. Our paths were so different from that time onward. Our duties took us far from civilization, far from the comforts of a writing desk. You, battling Sauron's minions in the north, and I, doing the same to your south. I had the urge to write so many times but thought better of it, especially with what the mind bond with the Lady had revealed. One more thing that I beheld in her mind, was that you were to be chosen as one of the Nine Walkers. If you were consumed by losing me from your life, your fate most likely t'would have been otherwise. I was not going to be responsible for that happening!"

His eyes changed hue once more to the brilliant crystal blue she had become accustom to seeing. "Haldir never told me of your name changing, though he told me of the actions you took that brought it about. I assume that is why you were given such a name." She sighed, as she recalled Haldir's reasons for not revealing such to the prince.

"Haldir did not know for certain why he did not tell you this, meleth, in that last letter. Later, as I recovered, he had told me that it just had felt to be the right thing to do. He had a feeling that it was for the best and that things that had not yet come to pass, was what drove him to not reveal this fact to you."

She looked at him with pleading eyes. "You have no idea what happened to me when I saw you in Lórien. I had seen this during the meeting with the Lady, but had not thought anything of it until we stopped you at the borders."

He held her chin in his fingers. "I first felt your presence then, meleth. You were hooded….T'was you who was the first to hold the bow at my head as I drew…"

"Aye, Legolas…and I left Lorien several days later. I could not be in your presence. The pull was too strong and my heart was fighting me the whole time I was near you and the fellowship."

"I always went to your tree, Arohtarë, when I needed to clear my mind. I was confused at what I was feeling but resigned myself to the fact that, what I was feeling were only the memories of what we had when I was in Lórien, all those years ago. I still did not believe that you still lived." He drew her against his chest and moved to lay back against the pillows.

"All this time, you have held this within. You have suffered more than I could possibly have thought possible by a mortal, let alone an Elf. You struggled with the loss of both father and husband, and the fact that your heart was yearning to join with another, so soon after his passing. Now I understand your turmoil, why you came close to fading. I did not understand why you could not just accept that the bond had been severed. Please forgive me, meleth. I did not know…"

She tilted her face up to look at him. "There is naught to forgive, Legolas. You would never have known until you were told. All was a struggle for me to block from you, but it had to be done. Telling you then was not the time, meleth…The battle for Pelennor was still looming. Knowing your life's mate was to fight along side may have caused you to falter."

"And what of you faltering Arohtarë? You knowing that your beloved would be in the battle." She sighed.

"I can not tell you as of yet golden one, why I had no fears of faltering in battle with this knowledge. In the days to come, should we survive, I shall reveal this. For now, I cannot. There is the possibility that my words could alter the future…" He stared at her, part of him wanting to know what she withheld, another not ever wanting to know. Feeling his unrest, Arohtarë turned to face him, kissing his lips and running her hands over his chest once more. She continued to unfasten the last of the clasps when he stilled her hands once more.

Locking his gaze upon hers, he took her hands in his, and slowly rolled them over until she was beneath him. He dipped down to capture her lips, setting blazing trails of butterfly kisses from her lips up to her ear, then to her temple and her eyes then across her forehead. He began his descent down the other side of her face, following the same path, then gently kissing and nipping at the line of her jaw and back to her lips. He moved down her chin, to her throat, and then to the place where her neck and shoulder met. Drawing her tunic away from only her shoulders, he followed her collarbone, gently nipping at her flesh teasingly, then trailed his tongue lightly along its rise. He did the same on the other side.

Slowly raising his head, he locked his gaze upon her once more and stealthy made his way to her side, propping himself up on his arm. She drew her eyes down the length of his form, his level of passion evident as she ran her fingers teasingly down his chest to just above his leggings. He was passing his fingers down the outline of her body, subtly tracing the cut musculature that was visible on her arms and shoulders. He unfastened several more clasps on her tunic, baring the center of her chest but nothing else. He drew his fingers down its length then followed with teasing kisses that barely touched her skin, eliciting a soft moan and more purring.

He drew his hands down her arms and then to her waist and hips at the same time, forming them to her curves. He raised himself up for a moment, as she pulled his tunic away from his shoulders, down his arms and off of his back. He chuckled softly as she gasped in delight at seeing his well-formed chest. It was a vision of perfection, having well defined musculature that shivered under her touch. It had been a very long time since she had reveled in his beauty. "You are perfect, meleth," she purred, as she ran her fingers softly over his bare chest, feeling the soft skin beneath them. He was solid and firm, but his skin was soft to the touch and very warm at the same time.

He grasped her hand in his and brought it to his lips in a kiss, then turning it over, he began to plant sweet kisses in her palm, then down her wrist, lingering over her pulse point, barely brushing his lips over the sensitive area. This made her literally crazy as she wrapped her free arm around his neck and pulled him down into a passionate and deep kiss. He moaned softly into her kiss, as she wrapped her long, strong legs around his, locking him into an embrace which would be quite difficult for him to extract himself from easily.

Coming up from the kiss Legolas breathed, "Meleth, you break me!"

"Then do not keep me waiting, lirimier," she whispered in his ear, as she took him into another passionate kiss, tracing the outline of his ear with a free hand.

He let out a rasping gasp at her touch, as a thousand jolts of lightening crackled through his body. This time she drew her arms around his shoulders holding his upper body to her firmly as well. Each felt every detail of the other's physique through the embrace. Her strength astounded him, as he was nearly unable to move either his arms or legs. Coaxing her out of the kiss, he was breathing raggedly, barely able to hold back his desires much longer. She released him from her steel embrace, allowing him to sit up a bit. As he did so, she rose to his height and began to undo the laces to his leggings. She never once let her eyes drift from his as she did so. He stood for a moment as she drew the leggings past his hips, allowing them to drop to the floor.

She ran her gaze down his now bare form and closed her eyes in pure contentment at the sight. As he began to move towards her, her eyes snapped open suddenly and the brightest of green orbs met his gaze, knocking the breath from him.

"Melethril!" he breathed, totally mesmerized.

As she reached up to him, he took the sleeves of her tunic and drew them off her shoulders, then slowly undid the laces of her leggings. He slid them off to the floor. Soon there was nothing between them but the cool night air and he marvelled at the creature that lay before him. It had been long since he had he seen such, and she had changed considerably. For the better. She was as solid in frame and physique as his own kin, perhaps even more so. He ran his hands along her sides, muscles shivering under his touch, as he took in every inch of her physique in amazement. Her muscular definition was not that of mortal or of Elf-kind, but a mix between the two, with something else he couldn't for the life of him put his mind around. 

Arohtarë watched his expressions change from awe, to wonderment to disbelief. Giggling, she took his hands in her and drew him down to her, revelling in feeling his full weight upon her.

"Meleth I have never seen such in a woman." 

She giggled again and replied, "You had a taste of what was yet to come, meleth, after the Solstice Feast. What you now behold is the physique of the feline, for I retain many of its features in my human form. I pray you have been well surprised." 

"Surprised is not the exact term I would use, meleth…"

In a more serious tone she asked, "What you behold…it pleases you?"

He looked deeply into her eyes, brushing a lock of stray hair from her face saying, "Aye, meleth, what I behold pleases me. All of you pleases me," he whispered, as he deeply kissed her lips and slowly drew his arms around her waist and small of her back.

He dropped kisses down upon her throat and chest, lightly kissing the rise of each breast, down to her abs then to her belly. Stopping there he glanced up at her, watching her reaction. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing in ragged gasps. Teasingly, he halted his descent and slid back up to her side, gently leaning in against her. His passion now evident against her thigh, Arohtarë slowly move her leg to the side eliciting a moan of pleasure from the Elf by the friction this action caused. Slowly, he rose above her, brushing the hair from the sides of her face and kissing her softly.

"Is this your desire, meleth? Do you desire to take me in binding, as I desire to take you?" he whispered close to her ear, his breathing came haltingly as his self control was waning rapidly. "We have only this moment in which to decide."

Running her hands down his sides, back, and then lightly over the flame of his passion, Arohtarë replied, "Aye, Legolas, 'tis my desire. You are my want and I shall take you in binding this night. I have yearned for such all these years in my heart. I love you, meleth-nîn," she whispered. A look of pure relief and desire washed over the Elf's face at hearing her words as his eyes slid shut, his mind and body now focused on the pending joining.

He slowly opened his eyes and gazed into her now flaming green ones, the full depth of her passion and desire evident. Her gaze was fierce and wonting, animalistic in nature, which only heightened his own level of passion. He drew himself lower upon her, and watched her face as he slowly pushed into her. Her eyes fluttered closed in ecstasy and a low moan bubbled from her throat. This time, the joining was unlike any other time for the both of them. This was their binding. The spiritual and physical joining of their beings. Their souls began to seep into each other, wholly burning their life forces into each other's memories. All things that were once divided, were now joined as one within them.

His own eyes slid closed, as he lowered his head into her neck, burying his face in her obsidian locks. He didn't move for a long moment, letting the feeling of their being joined envelope them both. He reveled in her heat that surrounded him, her body next to his and around him, her intoxicating scent, and her desire for him. Slowly he began to move against her, eliciting more pleasurable feelings for them both. They moved as one, in slow, gentle rhythm, and at times with fierce fiery abandon.

Their kisses were like fire upon each other's lips and flesh as they climbed to their release. The warmth from their entangled bodies created heat so intense between them that they felt as though they were engulfed in the fires of Mount Doom. Arohtarë was the first to fall to her pleasure, gasping a soft moan into his kiss; he muffling the sound of his own, as he allowed his pleasure to take him. Both reveled in the white hot flame that burst forth at the place of their joining as he collapsed, totally spent, and dropped his head against her shoulder, breathing heavily and moaning softly into her neck and raven locks.

Once his breathing slowed and steadied, she gently rolled them over, still joined, and enveloped his lips in a deep kiss, holding him tightly to her. A great rush of warmth seemed to past through them both at the same time, as their eyes opened and they gazed in amazement at each other, breaking the kiss.

"I feel you in my soul, Legolas Thranduilion, si bend-nîn," she whispered, kissing his eyes and lips softly.

"As do I feel you in mine, Arohtarë Haldiriell, si bereth-nîn. Our bond has been blessed and accepted by the Valar, meleth," he whispered back as he gently parted from her and rolled back with her in his arms. As he withdrew from her she moaned softly, which he swallowed in a sensual kiss.

"Take your rest, meleth, for we have much to face on the morrow," he breathed, lightly running his hands down her shoulders and arms.

"Aye, Legolas. But at least now I am to face it with peace in my heart. And mayhap you as well," she replied. He looked at her for a moment then kissed her.

"Aye, Arohtarë. No matter, we are now forever bound. We shall love forever, either in this life or the next." He held her closer.

"Meleth?" 

"Hmmm?"

"Promise me one thing?"

"What, melethril?"

"That, no matter, you will never break this bond between us, and I shall promise the same to you?"

He turned to look at her face and saw the unshed tears that hung in her green orbs. He kissed them from her eyes then said, "Nay, meleth-nîn, I shall never ask to break our bond. If fate leads us both to our deaths on the morrow, we shall pass as one. This I promise. I shall take you to the end of your days and then follow, meleth, otherwise."

"And I promise the same," she said as she curled against his chest. He glanced down, as she began to fade into the depths of contented sleep feeling that, with her in his life, he had now been completed, and that he could face whatever the powers that be put upon him. Gradually, his mind grew weary, his eyes glazed and unfocused, as he fell into an elvish slumber.

As he fell into sleep, memories of another time and place flooded his mind. It reached back to a season long ago and to the company of a very young mortal woman. He had been absolutely captured by the Marchwarden's daughter, from the very moment he chanced to gaze in her direction as he entered Lórien's gates that spring. Over the course of a month or so they had become very close. He found her to be very well skilled in weaponry and as a warrior, even for her young age, and she possessed a level of strength not common to one of her gender or race.

She had a fiery spirit and a sense of humor that kept him in stitches. He found her to be vulnerable, such was her age, but guarded and not afraid to stand up for herself. She was more elf-like than human though she was definitely mortal. As he spent more and more time with her, he felt like he was more in the company of one of his own kin than a child of Man. Her father was a force to be reckoned with though, and having to stay within his iron clad rules to be with his daughter was daunting. Let alone his constant glare.

Craban however, had a knack for being able to stay just outside his reach and the numerous sets of eyes that were constantly watching her every move. She could even disappear from his own presence when the mood struck. That fact vexed him to no end, as she was mortal, for Eru's sake! They had once made a wager that she could escape his senses anytime she wished, after she had done so the first night he was in Lórien. He arrogantly stated otherwise and said that if he lost, she could choose whatever retribution she desired. She did slip from his elven senses several more times after that but decided not to take him up on his losing wager. She just laughed at his stern gazes and embarrassed expressions, saying that they were worth more than anything else she could come up with for payment. Now he knew how she had done it. He chuckled softly. Wildeor.

The most memorable night he had of their relationship was the Solstice Feast. She had not planned on attending, for several reasons. Her father not withstanding. He would not let her attend. She felt that she would be embarrassed by being rejected if her crown was not accepted, and she was nervous about the entire affair to begin with, though she fought her father for two months to attend. The Lady finally intervened and personally asked her to attend as company to the person she was a guide to, him. He had just about talked her into attending, when a small altercation between her and his guards made the going quite difficult, almost ending in a diplomatic crisis. Once past that, she did attend and nearly knocked him off his feet with her beauty. She had worn a brilliant white pearlized gown, the only feminine piece of attire he had ever seen her in from the day he had arrived. Always, she had worn tunics and leggings. Even her father was hard pressed to get her to wear a gown. When she finally did that eve, her adar was reluctant to let her out of the talan.

She was absolutely stunning and had him transfixed the entire eve. She had surprised him greatly when she had offered him her crown, as she had been hell-bent that it was not going to leave her obsidian locks the entire week before. Even as close as they had become over the two previous months, she was still very hesitant. When they finally made their way back to his quarters, he couldn't believe that she was even in his presence, but she was very uneasy and quite unsure of herself. A great difference compared to the woman that now lay in his arms. Seeing her fear and nervousness as she stood on his balcony, he had been initially hesitant about the events that would eventually culminate that evening. However, he realized that he was falling in love with her, and would not want her in the arms of another that did not feel the same way about her as he did. She was also desiring that they be together that night, even through her uneasiness. Several times he had asked if this was what she desired, and each time her answer was yes.

The love that they shared that night was pure and true. Never had he desired another as he did her. She was different than anyone he had ever chanced to meet, mortal or no. He could not let her go, but fate would not be kind for what turned out to be many years to come. There were many eves that followed where they would spend their nights in each other's arms. Very few couples lasted past the Solstice Feast, as it was the opportunity where one chose their first lover, not necessarily their life's mate. What began that eve long past, had grown and stayed with him from that night forward. His heart wanted for no other, but their union was not to be then.

When he returned home, he immediately immersed himself in his duties to his father, his kingdom and battling Sauron's fell beasts. His heart was nearly torn from his chest upon hearing that Craban had been mortally wounded. Word from her father was not good for the first two months, but eventually she prevailed. Then the correspondence ended. It was inevitable, seeing the way things were progressing with the Dark Lord. No matter, she was still ingrained in his heart, its song waiting patiently for the day it would call to her once more. The day never came. Years past, and any hope he had of reuniting died most likely with her mortal form. He could never love another. His heart was hers, even in death.

When he had first seen the raven-haired beauty in Lórien, his sleeping heart suddenly awoke with great joy. At first he couldn't understand why. He tried to still it but it kept calling to her. She seemed so familiar to him, yet the passing years told him that it was impossible. It had been 147 years since he had last seen Craban. She was mortal and could not have lived this long. Let alone be the age this woman was. She didn't look as though she was out of her late 20s. And this woman was called Arohtarë. After a few days he didn't see her again and resigned himself to the fact that he never would. He left Lórien with a heavy heart and the memories of what had been long ago. When he saw her arrive at the Helm that night, his heart started its song all over again and he felt sure that he was supposed to know her.

She even caught his eye and had spoken to him just before the battle. Never in his wildest dreams would he have believed that she and Craban were one in the same. If his heart had not been so persistent. And when she had finally come to him with the truth of it all, he nearly died. He had been doubly blessed by the Valar and he would sing their praises through the sailing to Valinor. His prayer to them, nearly a yen past, had finally been answered. They gave her to him as his wife. A sweet smile curled around the lips of the sleeping Elf as he reveled in the memories that came back to him in blissful waves. He wrapped his arms around the woman by his side, falling into a peaceful slumber secure in the knowledge that they were now forever bound to one another.


	13. Chapter 13

When All Hope fades

Legolas awoke first as shards of sunlight pierced the darkened room.. Glancing at Arohtarë by his side, he kissed her gently then sat up. His stirring brought the woman out of her slumber and he found himself peering into a pair of sparkling, emerald green eyes gazing back at him. "Forgive me for waking you, Arohtarë, for it was not my intent. There is still some time before we must rise." He spoke softly as he slowly dropped down to the woman and captured her lips in a kiss.

"Mmm, I can think of a thing or two to do besides sleep, Elf…" she chirped as she drew him closer to her.

"You tempt me to no end, mórmiel-nîn, and shall be my undoing," he murmured, shaking his head as he started to rise. She giggled as he stood then looked through the pile of clothing on the floor for his leggings. Many an amorous thought passing through her mind as she watched him move sinuously in all his natural glory. my back cat

He looked over his shoulder at the giggling woman and then playfully pounced upon her, eliciting a stifled shriek.

"Now who is the beast?" She gasped as he took her in a tight embrace and kissed her passionately.

"T'would do you well to bite your tongue in laughter, meleth, or surely chance a tryst this wondrous morn! For I shall change my mind on the matter!"

"You would not dare!" She chided playfully.

"Aye I would if given cause," he said, a sly smirk curling upon his lips. She looked deeply into his crystal blue eyes for a few moments.

"Hmm, so you would. As would I, but alas, I hear the sentry coming to bid our presence elsewhere," she whispered as he captured her lips and lowered himself upon her. Shaking herself from the amorous Elf's embrace, she forced herself to rise and don her robe. He looked at her sadly and she just rolled her eyes. "Really beloved! You appear as a love sick hound!" He snickered.

"Truth be told…I am," he said, gazing at her with deepening blue eyes.

"Honestly! Dress!" she said bemused, tossing him his leggings. Indeed, Argarth rapped on her door, summoning her to join the host assembling at the lower tier of the city.

Though the thoughts of the inevitable and pending battle loomed over their heads, an air of hope and happiness surrounded the couple. Though neither feared death, and both were fierce fighters, the thought of facing it alone had been unsettling. Now that they had joined, they could face it together as one and would fight harder than either had ever done in the past, for each other, for the survival of Middle Earth, and for their friends.

Legolas finished dressing first then helped Arohtarë with her armor, as had grown customary between the two. She then strapped her sword about her waist, donned her crimson cloak and then her harness at her back. They silently turned to each other, making sure each was prepared; they kissed, and then left her chambers hand in hand.

The small host was assembling at the gates on the lowest level of the city by the time the two of them had made it to the bottom tier. Aragorn, Gimli, the hobbits and Gandalf were already mounted and their own horses awaited them.

"Good morn Lady Captain and Elf Princeling!" bellowed Gimli as the two approached.

"Good morn to you as well, Master Dwarf!" called Arohtarë cheerfully though the air held forboding. Legolas gave him a slight nod. They looked to Aragorn who was gazing at them with calm but sad eyes.

"'Tis our last battle, mellyn-nîn. If the ring bearer fails despite our efforts, all is lost. Should they prevail, then may we all fall to victory if this be our fates." He spoke quietly so that only the Fellowship could hear and each bowed their heads in silence for a moment. When he raised his head, Aragorn's eyes met first Arohtarë's, then Legolas's. The unusual calmness and serenity that surrounded these two before battle hinted that something profound had happened between them. They shyly glanced at each other as Aragorn smiled at them. Both were usually filled with a blood lusting eagerness to get into the fray.

"Aye, they are wedded," he said quietly to himself and smiled sadly as he wheeled his steed towards the white gates and proceeded forward.

The great gates ground open and the tiny host began their somber journey to their last stand, as Aragorn led the Host of the West from Minas Tirith for Mordor. For five days they rode, battling groups of fell beasts and men along the way before arriving at their unwelcome destination. Sauron took the bait and sent out orders to meet the forces of Light at the Black Gates. Sam and Frodo noticed the eye moving away, along with all of the orcs in the valley, thus leaving them a clear path to the seething mountain in the distance. Both glanced at each other in bewilderment but tarried not. Swiftly they made for the plains and their council with destiny, neither lookinf from whence they had come.

Having finally made their way to their appointed rondevouis, Aragorn wheeled and rallied the troops. There were so few of them and he sensed the fear in their hearts, knowing this last act on the part of Men was certain death. He bade them be strong, have courage and to hold to their purpose.

"Never thought I'd die fighting side by side with an Elf," murmured Gimli, giving an upward sidelong glance at Legolas.

"How about side by side with a friend?" replied Legolas, gazing down at his scruffy companion.

"Aye, I could do that," replied Gimli softly, looking up at the Elf.

Aragorn and the rest of the Fellowship slowly rode forward toward the gates, but nothing happened and the gates remained closed. Gandalf was momnetarily worried that this venture was in vain, as Aragorn separated himself from the others and heard the whispering call of Sauron, as he moved forward. "Aragorn, …Elassar…," Aragorn turned slowly around, staring, as the monstrous gates rumbled open and the great Eye swung in the small army's direction.

"Fall back!" Aragorn commanded to the Fellowship, as they hastily road back to the Host. The gates were now fully open and the Host of Men gaped in awe, horror, and fear at the half million orcs and fell beasts making their way slowly towards the tiny army of seven thousand. Aragorn turned to the throng behind him and cried "For Frodo!" raised his sword, and ran headlong into the approaching horde. The rest followed as the last of the Army of Men faced certain doom.

Letting their horses go, the contingent got down to ground fighting. Aragorn was felled by a troll and almost crushed to death as Legolas struggled and fought to get to his side. Gimli and Arohtarë were side by side taking turns shredding the enemy.

"Mind the axe, Lass!" Gimli bellowed, as she came dangerously close to the swinging blade.

"I will try and heed your warning!" she replied chidingly.

"Mind the sword!" she laughed, as she swung at a charging orc, taking it across the torso and narrowly missing Gimli's nose. Aragorn managed to kill the giant beast as Legolas made it to his side, and they both fought fast and furiously shoulder to shoulder. Gandalf deftly carved a swath through the retched beasts, as he moved his way through the mass of churning bodies to the rest of the Fellowship. More and more of the fell host poured out of Mordor slowly tightening the circle of filth now surrounding the small Host of Men.

As the fighting escalated, the skies grew menacingly dark and the air poisonous with the belching filth of Mount Doom. Black ash burned the Host's eyes and choked their lungs. A haze of death and debris hung over the battlefield as the fray went poorly for the remnant armies of Rohan and Gondor. Gimli, Legolas, Aragorn and Arohtarë fiercely fought side by side, her by sword, they by bow, blade and axe, until Legolas ran out of arrows. He was forced to draw his long knives, as was Arohtarë, using both sword and knife, to slash their way through the enemy.

Legolas and Gimli soon became surrounded by fell beasts before long and, as superb fighters as they both were, they was no match for the overwhelming numbers of the enemy that were descending upon them. Looking toward Aragorn by her side, she noted Gandalf moving close by, then she shifted her gaze to the Elf and Dwarf. Seeing them become surrounded, Arohtarë sheathed her sword and disappeared to the ground right before Gandalf and Aragorn's eyes. A piercing shriek suddenly split the air as a great black feline exploded from the midst of the tiny host, and descended upon several orcs at once who were closing in on the twosome. The wizard and king-to-be were taken aback at the swiftness with which she had been by their sides as a woman one moment, then in her feline form the next. The orcs were no match for the great cat's speed, agility and enormous strength. As Gimli and Legolas fought on, they caught fleeting glimpses of it leaping from one foe to the next, splaying open orc, mortal and Uruk throats as it went. Surprisingly, the Rohirrim horses were not frightened by the great cat, and were actually letting it protect them as it attacked the enemy charging toward them. Legolas and Gimli were soon able to maneuver with a bit more room, but the bastards kept on.

Meanwhile, Aragorn and Gandalf were also carving their way through the endless foe pouring out of the Black Gates with renewed ferver. Gimli took to the front of both Elf and cat, wielding his axe in massive and powerful arcs, felling scores of enemy in his wake. For each that the Host struck down, a hundred more took their place. The remnants of the Rohan eoreds rode clockwise and counter clockwise around the infantry within the center, cutting down row after row of the enemy. As deadly as these horse masters were in their defense of the tiny army, the foe was far too great in number to hold back for very long. Just as hope seemed to be fading, something must have happened within the black walls, for the great Eye suddenly shifted its gaze toward Mount Doom. Gandalf and Aragorn looked towards the mountain and gave each other a knowing glance.

In great suddenness, the battle had ground to a halt as all eyes, friend and foe alike, affixed on the tower and the Great Eye. Arohtarë in feline form, sidled up to Legolas, soldiers nervously giving her a wide berth as she moved through the ranks, and nudged him at the waist, . The Elf looked down at the massive creature looking up at him by his side, smiled, shook his golden locks and began stroking her head. The fur was thick and silky to his touch, as his hand gliding lightly over the shining coat, while he patted her side. He heard a deep rumbling in the big cat's chest and realized that she was purring! In the midst of a battlefield, surrounded by the enemy, and she was purring! He chuckled.

In the distance, Mount Doom suddenly began erupting in a rage, spilling angry rivers of lava down its sides and spewing forth fiery rock and debris high into the air. All watched in awe as the tower began to sway; Sauron's eye nervously watching his own demise. The tower lurched far to the left then toppled forward, the eye exploding upon impact. In a clap of thunder and flash of lightening the sky cleared and bright sunshine enveloped the land. The ground trembled and opened up, swallowing most of Sauron's fell host as those closest to the Armies of Men began running back towards the Black Gates.

Cheers went up from the remaining army of Gondor and Rohan as all of the surviving Fellowship stood side-by-side watching the miracle unfold before them, along with Arohtarë now as herself. The mortal host began to slowly walk among the dead and tend the wounded before they made their way back to the white city, as Gandalf quickly summoned the Eagle King and flew toward Mount Doom in search of the hobbits, Sam and Frodo. The Great War was over. Legolas turned to Arohtarë and kissed her gently as they watched the great eagles fly overhead.

Many hours later, as the column slowly began their long ride back towards Minas Tirith, Aragorn and Gimli moved up to the Elf and Marchwarden's sides. There was a look of confusion on the dwarf's face and a knowing glint in the ranger's eyes.

"Mellyn-nîn, it appears that congratulations are in order, are they not?" commented the soon to be king. Legolas and Arohtarë reined their horses to stay in step with Aragorn's. Neither spoke, just bowed their heads smiling.

"Come now lad, lass…What diya keep from us, eh?" Gimli piped, looking from one to the other. Legolas looked up and met the dwarf's green eyes and tilted his head towards Arohtarë, as he flashed a rare, broad smile. Gimli followed the Elf's gesture and looked at Arohtarë quizzically for a moment, his eyes widening as the realization of the Elf's meaning slowly dawned upon him. Legolas nodded in acknowledgement as he noted the dwarf's reaction and Gimli began laughing heartily, slapping his thigh. He laughed so hard that he nearly fell off of Brego.

"'Tis bout time, Elf!" he bellowed causing Aragorn, Legolas and Arohtarë to join in the laughter.

Later that week and the eve after their return, the Fellowship gathered in the Royal Hall by a great fire. Aragorn was settled in a large chair situated across from Legolas and Arohtarë, filling his pipe, Gimli was sitting on the hearth puffing on his own, and the two hobbits, Merry and Pippin, were sleeping on a chaise in a corner, draped over one another. Frodo had still not awakened and Sam was by his side in his room.

"Well my friends...Now that you have wedded, what are your plans? Do you retire to Mirkwood or Lórien?" asked Aragorn. The couple looked at each other as if to realize for the first time that they had not give thought to their living situation.

"We do not know," they both said together and laughed.

"I have many duties awaiting my return, Aragorn, so I would think that we may be in Lórien for a bit. Of course, King Thranduil most likely has plenty for the Princeling here to tend to as soon as he returns."

"Eh? Neither realms shall be gone to until we..." Gimli pointed to Legolas and then to himself, "…chance to travel to the Glimmering Caves, as promised Princeling."

Legolas winced then added, "And you, Master Dwarf, shall accompany me to Fanghorn Forest…as promised." It was Gimli's turn to grimace.

Arohtarë sighed and shook her head in resignation, and the both of them looked at her. "And I, it seems, shall have no choice but to visit both." Aragorn chuckled.

Two months later, Aragorn was crowned King of the Western Lands and the hobbits began their journey back to the Shire. Legolas, Arohtarë and Gimli set out to visit Fanghorn and the Caves, taking several months to do both. At their journey's end, the Elf and Dwarf said their goodbyes, Arohtarë giving Gimli a warm hug and kiss.

"I shall miss you Gimli. You must come visit Lórien and Mirkwood when you are able," she said, as he hid his eyes from her as the teared up.

"I shall keep tha invitation in mind, m'lady. Ye two take care of each other ya hear? I shall miss tha both of ya dearly till our paths cross agin'!" As the Dwarf ambled away, Legolas and Arohtarë stood and watched until he had disappeared over the hills through the Plains of Rohan, towards the Hornburg and the Glittering Caves.

"'Tis time for us to return to our homes as well, Legolas. I have spoken to the Lady and she tells me to go on to Mirkwood first. Rumil and Orophin are taking care of things, as they too are also Captains."

Legolas leaned over his steed and planted a long kiss onto his wife's lips, his right hand resting on her thigh.

"'Tis been nigh two winters since I have been away from my homeland, Arohtarë. I have been blessed that I shall have to wait no longer." She caressed his cheek and smiled softly at the Elf.

"Do you not think that the Lady did not know this, edhel?" She giggled at a thought that just came into her mind. "There is much that shall pleasantly surprise you, meleth-nîn, in the coming years," Legolas tilted his head as he looked at her.

"Such as?"

"Ah. That is for the future to reveal, golden one, as 'tis not my place to say."

"Come now, Arohtarë! You cannot leave me to ponder such for an age!"

"Aye, but I can…and shall," she said as she kicked her steed into a relaxed gallop. He shook his head, smiled and followed suit.

They arrived at the southern borders of Mirkwood at dusk on the fifth day, and were met by at least a hundred Mirkwood warriors. Lord Elrond had sent word ahead that the prince and the Marchwarden of Lórien were on their way. All of Mirkwood was in the throes of readying the underground realm for their arrival. They camped for the night under the beloved trees of Legolas's wood, he being so overwhelmed that he promptly climbed into the tallest to gaze at the stars. Arohtarë climbed up and sat by his side, reveling in the fact that she was now home as well. There would be no leaving after several months as was the original thought and the Elf had no knowledge that this was so.

As she came to his side, he moved to lean back against a sturdy bough, opening his arms for Arohtarë to lean against him. Together they gazed at the brightest starlit sky that Middle-earth had had in almost a millennia. Mirkwood was no longer and the darkness that had descended upon it, so many years ago, was gone.

"You cannot fathom the feelings that course through my soul this eve, meleth. 'Tis as if ten thousand stone has been lifted from my shoulders." He kissed her cheek, then neck.

She turned to look up into his face, the pale light from the stars reflecting in his eyes. "I can only guess at the joy that you feel, Legolas, for I shall never experience the same. Much has changed in my homeland," she said sadly as she looking up at the sky. He turned her slightly in order to hold her closer.

"Why do you say such, meleth-nîn? Is not Lothloríen of the greatest beauty of the elven realms?"

"Nay, golden one. Much has changed with the unmaking of the One. The leaves are falling and the golden light grows dim. The Lady passes to the Gray Havens for she shall sail in a moon's time."

Legolas stared at her in shock. He had not thought about what was to befall all of the ring bearers.

"We should have gone to Lothloríen first, meleth. Forgive my selfishness," he said softly as he embraced her a bit tighter.

"Nay, Legolas. T'would not have been the same. The Lady's power began waning the moment Sauron and the One were unmade. She sent me here because she knew of the pain and sorrow I would feel upon returning. She also knew that there was no longer anything there to hold me." She took a short breath and resettled in the Elf's arms, laying her hands lightly atop them. "Nay, tis best we came here as we did."

The Elf hugged the woman to his chest as he pondered her words. Nearly all who dwelt throughout the world that was Arda had lost something or someone to Sauron's evil. But her? She had lost all that was her life as a result of this malace. Her father and husband, her blood kin, her home. All that she had come to know and love was gone in the blink of an eye.

"Meleth, I am so sorry. You have lost so much," he whispered into her hair. She sighed but then chuckled.

"I still have my life, meleth. I have wonderful friends as a result of the chaos and…I have you, do I not?" She leaned hear head back against his chest, patting his arms enveloped around her. "Truly, I see myself as blessed and need not pity or condolences." He glanced down and kissed the crown of her head, marveling at the woman's resilience in the face of the adversities that she had suffered. He felt that, if she were of Elfkind, she surely would have faded long ago.

"Aye you have me, meleth, and a family you have not yet come to know in its entirety. My father has promised me something from long ago, and I shall eagerly remind him of his words as soon as we enter his sight. My people will welcome you as my wife, and their princess, with open arms."

"Ai'! I have not given thought to that part of the bargain! Princess! Ha! By the Valar! If your good King and the people of Mirkwood expect a dainty lady of lesiure and empty chatter, they shall soon see I am naught of the kind!" Legolas snorted in laughter hearing her words as he held fast to both his wife and the bough he leant against to keep both from tumbling to the ground.

"Ai'! I have erred gravely! I have set a Wildeor loose amidst the realm of Mirkwood! I shall surely be banished!" He chuckled then dipped down to take her lips with his in a passionate kiss. That eve, Mirkwood's newest wedded royalty celebrated their homecoming in passionate bliss. 


	14. Chapter 14

A New Life Dawns 

The next morning, the contingent arrived at the massive city gates. Memories flooded Arohtarë's mind as she gazed over the grand staircase leading into the underground palace. It was here, nigh 150 years ere, that she and Haldir had bid the Mirkwood kingdom fairwell. Legolas felt his wife's unease and reached a hand to rest upon her arm as they rode through the gates.

All will be well, love. I know of your memories and of your heartache. I am with you...I will always be with you...You are now home.

His mind speak caressed her thoughts like a gentle vespre, breaking the dark spell her somber musings had woven within. Without turning to look at the Elf, she reached out and covered his hand with hers, giving his a gentle squeeze. Legolas smiled, patted her arm, and continued riding toward the palace entrance.

Nearly all of Mirkwood was in attendance to see their prince and new wife arrive after nearly two years away. King Thranduil was beside himself with joy at seeing his son whole and hale, and pleasantly surprised and pleased at meeting Arohtarë. Though he thought he had met her somewhere before. His jaw dropped when he learned that he had met her so many years ago, when Legolas had returned home from his visit to Lórien.

"'Tis true, my liege. I am Haldir's daughter, whom you first met when I was 18 winters." Legolas chuckled at the stunned look on his father's face.

"That is impossible! You cannot be…..Craban?"

"Aye, 'tis the name I was once known by. I was given the name 'Arohtarë' shortly after my return to Lórien."

Thranduil just sat there dumbfounded. She didn't look a day out of her mid twenties. Seeing the quizzical look in his eyes she said, "Presently, I am 167 winters, my King."

A look of total disbelief now passed across his face, his eyes widened, and his brow rose nearly past his golden hairline. She chuckled then said, "I am of the Dunedain, my liege."

"By the Valar! Full of mystery are you not?" He chuckled once he was over his surprise at all he had learned about his new daughter-in-law.

His mood gradually sombered as he knitted his brow. "I was told all of the Galadhrim who marched to the Helm had perished. Your father included."

"Aye, tis true, save for myself and a handful of guardians. I continued on to Gondor with the remnants of the Fellowship."

"My condolences on the loss of your father and your people. I had known Haldir for several millennia and he was an exceptional warrior and Elf."

At that moment, Legolas whispered something into his father's ear and Arohtarë looked at the stunned expression that spread upon the king's face as he did so.

"Sweet Eru…" breathed the king, as he turned his gaze back to her. He cleared his throat and bowed his head slightly before speaking. "M'lady, Haldir…Ai', the Marchwarden was…" He paused, not quite knowing how to say what he wanted to.

"My liege, I know what you try to speak. Aye, he was my husband of nigh 147 winters." Thranduil looked at her incredulously. 147 winters?

As his mirth faded, he frowned slightly in thought then said, "M'lady. You are of mortal blood then." It was a statement and one that she had been awaiting patiently.

"Aye."

The king looked at his son whose expression was now stoic and unreadable. Thranduil looked back at the woman and pursed his lips. This would complicate matters greatly in the royal household. When her eventual fate came to pass, he was in fear of losing his only son to grief. Her passing would tear Legolas apart, and he could not face losing his only child. Especially after the loss of his own wife. Legolas was the only thing that had kept him from passing to the Halls of Mandos so long ago.

"Have you both thought of the consequences of your binding?"

Both remained silent, gazing at each other over the king's head. Legolas was the first to answer.

"Aye we have, and since our bond has been blessed by the Valar themselves, it is right in our eyes."

The king was silent, brow deeply furrowed as he gazed sternly at the couple.

"Father, there is much you do not know about her," Legolas told him, walking to her side and putting an arm around her waist.

"What is there to know other than you are mortal my dear, and will eventually succumb to the inevitable fate of your race?" said the king, speaking directly to Arohtarë as kindly as he could.

She sighed, bowing her head in frustration. She slowly looked up, meeting the king's gaze. "My liege, I know naught of the Race of Man, save that 'tis the race I was born into. I have lived in Lothloríen all of my life, nearly since since birth, and have been raised as Elfkind. Aside from having not the quality of immortality, I am as you. My strength and heightened levels of sight, hearing and awareness come from elsewhere. As Dunedain, I age exceptionally slowly as you can see and, as one of the last of my kind's full bloods, I have been blessed with an exceptionally long life as well. I shall be by your son's side long after this age, and the next, pass into legend."

Thranduil sat a bit higher upon his throne at hearing these words, and threw her a quizzical glance. "Just what is your life's grace, m'lady?"

"Well ere three thousand winters, my liege. Possibly many more due to other qualities that I possess. Bear in mind that I am now only 167."

Thranduil forward a bit at hearing this. "Remarkable," he whispered, but was consumed by another thought. "As you know, Arohtarë, our time in Middle Earth is waning. What will become of you, should Legolas cross to Valinor before your passing? You will be left alone in a world ruled by Secondborn."

Legolas's expression transitioned from stoic, to disbelief, to anger in a matter of seconds upon hearing his father speak. "What, in all of Arda, would possess you to think that I would do such a thing, father? Stranding my wife will not be the method by which I shall leave the world. This, I can assure you," said the Elf sternly.

Thranduil looked at his son in shock at the way in which he had addressed him. "And ion-nîn, how exactly do you intend to pass from this world?" he replied, showing great restraint of his anger.

"That shall be decided when the time arrives, father. Until then, I plan on reveling in the many ages we shall have together, and not dwell upon things not yet come to pass."

"What of the future of our kingdom, Legolas? Should I leave for Valinor and pass the kingdom onto you, and, sweet Eru forbid, you are taken by grief upon the death of Arohtarë, what becomes of our people, our realm?"

Arohtarë had been standing silently by Legolas's side since she had spoken last, her head bowed and hand clasping the Elf's tightly. Legolas glanced over to her and could see that she was silently listening to someone or thing, and not the conversation at hand.

"Meleth?" He whispered, squeezing her hand. She didn't respond. He squeezed her hand a bit more tightly and put his hand on her shoulder, turning her to face him.

"The Lady speaks, Legolas …"she whispered almost incoherently as she went back into her trance-like state.

"My liege, if I may?" The sudden sound of Arohtarë 's voice startled both into silence as they turned to face her.

"Aye."

"The Lady Galadriel has sent word that, what you trouble yourself over is for naught at this time and place," Thranduil blinked at the woman in muted anger.

"She has the audacity to infiltrate the privacy and confidentiality of my court?" he bellowed in rage.

"The Lady Galadriel has done nothing of the sort, my liege. 'Tis through my thoughts that she says such. You fail to recall that I am now Marchwarden of Lórien and, as such, I recieve her words. T'was mine own thoughts that brought about her reply. I simply passed this on to you." The king sat speechless, lips parted, as if to respond but then thought better of it.

He then cleared his throat. "And just what is her meaning, pray tell?" he asked, brow raised.

"I know not, your highness. I only relay her words. Know this though, she is usually quite correct in her foresight."

He looked blankly at Arohtarë then returned his harsh gaze back to his son. "You have not answered me ion-nîn. What will become of Mirkwood?" speaking as if Arohtarë had never uttered a word.

Legolas steadied himself and fought to control the frustration and anger boiling in his veins before voicing his reply. Steadying his gaze upon the king he said, "Father, if and when you choose to pass to the Undying Lands, and I am to take the throne, as highly unlikely as that may be, our people will have all but left Middle-earth by that time. There will be no realm left to rule. I am gifted with neither visionary powers nor do I claim to know the future. I do not plan to have my life ruled by a future unknown or fears unfounded. What I do know is that, as it is fact that the time of the Firstborn is waning, I shall allege myself to my wife first and foremost, and both of us shall focus on the rebuilding of Ithilien. Many centuries shall unfold before any of what you speak shall come to pass."

Thranduil gazed intently at the couple standing before him, knowing what his son said to be true. He thrummed his fingers on the arm of his throne gazing past the two of them. He sighed. He liked the woman and he liked the effect she had upon Legolas. He looked down, Arohtarë and Legolas silently observing the king's actions.

Thranduil suddenly looked up directly at Arohtarë and said, "Children?" She and Legolas glanced at each, and then she shook her head in the negative. The king frowned slightly then looked at her expectantly.

"The wounds I received at the Battle for the Pelennor saw to it that there would be no children for us," she said softly, head bowed. Legolas had never given this subject much thought until his father mentioned it. Children? There was much his father needed to know about his new wife. Her 147-year marriage to Haldir was childless, as both were lifelong wardens. Few wardens married, let alone had children, and their marriage was a rarity amongst the guardians. Circumstances, such as they were in Middle-earth during their relationship, wouldn't have allowed for them to raise a family anyway.

"Come now, surely you have children from the years of marriage to the Marchwarden?" He pressed.

"Nay."

The King was dumbfounded. Having a half-elf for an heir he could handle. Having no heirs for his son was quite a different thing. Extremely unusual for one of royal status and unheard of in his kingdom. Legolas's words came back to him though, as he pondered the inevitable foresight that his son brought forth. There would no longer be a need for royal heirs. Still, he'd have liked grandchildren to dote upon. He sighed again. He was doing that quite a bit during this conversation.

Legolas cleared his throat. "Adar? Do you remember the promise you made to me all those years ago? On the very steps of this palace when Craban and Haldir were leaving to return to Lórien?" His voice held great great firmness as he spoke with a quirked brow.

Thranduil looked questioningly at his son, not truly remembering how that conversation connected with the one they were now having.

"I do indeed remember my words to you, ion. But that was concerning Craban. This is Aroh….tarë…" His voice trailed off as he looked at the both of them, and blinked in shock. She was one in the same. So intent was he on his inquisition of the woman that he had forgotten that fact. She was 167 winters old. The Valar did answer his son's prayers after all. He looked up sheepishly at Arohtarë and extended his hand. She looked at his face, then at his hand quizzically, and then took it. He stood and drew her to him in a warm embrace.

"Welcome daughter, to our kingdom. Please forgive the ramblings of an ancient Elf who still dwells in the days of old."

Legolas breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing the vision before him. I never thought I would live this long to see such, he thought to himself, stunned, as his father released his wife to his own arms.

"Well then. The war might be over, but there is much yet to do before we sail into the proverbial sunset young ones. Come, we have planning to do with regards to the future of Eryn Lasgalan."

Legolas tilted his head slightly and raised a brow at the words uttered by his father. iEryn Lasgalan?/i Thranduil caught his son's eye and winked in response. Legolas just shook his head in wonder as he followed his wife and father into his study.

As the three were moving to Thranduil's private quarters, the king's chief advisor walked into the throne room. He eyed Arohtarë coldly as he made his way to the king's side.

"My liege," he said, bowing.

"Hámeth, what brings you here at this hour, pray tell? I am preparing to retire to my chambers with Legolas and his new wife."

"Ah, Arohtarë! Meet my chief advisor, Hámeth. Hámeth, Lady Arohtarë, Princess of Mirkwood." Hámeth, obviously shocked at hearing that this was the wife of their prince, and now loathing this meeting, bowed much shallowly than would have been proper in front of royalty. He reluctantly took her extended hand, barely touching it, and hardly brushed his lips across it. He let go of it as if it were dipped with black poison. Thranduil noted his behavior but thought better of speaking.

"A pleasure, m'lady," he said dourly, cleared his throat then said, "Welcome to the Kingdom of Mirkwood. I trust you shall find your stay…pleasant."

Turning briskly to face the king he said, "I bring news from the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn."

Arohtarë smiled at hearing her lord and lady's names. She was well aware of what the message was in regards to. He handed the king a parchment then stood silently waiting for further instructions, eying Arohtarë coolly all the while. Legolas stood to his father's right, looking at the advisor with a venomous gaze.

After reading it thoroughly, Thranduil looked up and dismissed Hámeth saying, "Thank you, Hámeth. You may take your leave."

"My liege," Hámeth replied and bowed, throwing an icy glare at Arohtarë once more before making his way to the door. As he moved to exit the chambers, he muttered under his breath, "Absolutely disgraceful! The royal line is now besmirched with the blood of a mortal. And a common one at that!" thinking no one, especially the mortal, could have heard him. He was sorely mistaken.

At hearing his remark quite clearly, Arohtarë stiffened, instinctively resting her hand on her sword hilt. "M'lord Hámeth...Perhaps you would care to share your thoughts with the rest of us?" she said coldly and in eerie calmness. Legolas looked at her in amazement, then at his father who had a slight smirk on his face.

He leaned towards Legolas and whispered, "This is going to be quite enlightening, I can see. Such sharp hearing for a mortal!"

Hámeth froze in mid-step. Impossible! he thought, turning slowly to be met with the most ferocious green eyes he had ever beheld tearing through him.

"Pardon, m'lady? Of what do you speak?" he replied nervously.

"Do not play daft with me advisor! You know quite well what I mean."

"With all due respect m'lady, I fear I do not," he said, looking first to Thranduil, then to Legolas for support. He had hoped that they would think she was stepping out of line. Neither was going to side in his corner, however.

She took several steps towards him when he said, with a hint of embarrassed anger in his voice, "Just what is it that you feel I need to share, m'lady?"

The corner of Arohtarë 's upper lip twitched ever so slightly, and it reminded Legolas of the same expression that Haldir would display when he had been angered to the point of boiling. He turned his face partially from Arohtarë to hide his amusement. Hámeth was about to feel the wrath of Lórien's Marchwarden. In two strides Arohtarë closed the distance between them, standing tow-to-toe with the now obviously intimidated advisor. He hadn't realized how tall she was until she stood directly in front of him, nearly two inches his superior.

"Forgetful are we? Then let me refresh your memory...

'Absolutely disgraceful! The royal line is now besmirched with the blood of a mortal, and a common one at that.'"

Hámeth swallowed hard as one of Arohtarë 's hands slowly grasped the collar of his tunic tightly, lifting him an inch or two off of the floor. He swore he heard her growl. Thranduil stared in disbelief.at her and Hámeth with his feet dangling from the floor. Then he looked at Legolas who was struggling mightily to contain his mirth.

"Now Hámeth. If you do not wish for your blood to besmirch the floors of the king's throne room in the next several moments, I do believe that you owe the royal family present an apology. And, the next time you speak to me you may wish to address me more formally, and in a more respectful manner." Hámeth's eyes began to bulge as he stammered his response.

"M, m, m'lady…you are choking me!" he coughed, grasping her hand and clutching at his tunic.

"Oh! Where are my manners! Pardon the discomfort I have caused you," she quipped icily and dropped the terrified Elf roughly to the stone floor. Hámeth, crumpled at her feet, was breathing heavily in rasping breaths and looking up at the woman towering over him, his hands rubbing his throat.

"Your apology, Hámeth…" she said, lifting him to his feet and roughly turning him to face the king and prince.

"M...my apologies, my lieges, if I have offended or disrespected you and your house."

She then turned him roughly to face her, glaring at him expectantly. "And to you, my liege, I offer my sincerest apologies for my words and the disrespect they have caused," he nearly whispered. She smiled sweetly at him, smoothed his tunic and collar, then straightened his sleeves.

Turning him toward the door she said, "Now then, that was not too difficult was it, Hámeth? In the future, I would not make it habit to gainsay those of the royal family, if I were you. Mortal, I may be. Common, I am not." She opened the door, roughly shoved him out and slammed it loudly behind him.

Thranduil was staring at her speechless as Legolas was leaning against the throne in the throes of laughter. The king took his gaze off of Arohtarë to look at his son and burst into peals of hearty laughter himself. Arohtarë just smiled at the both of them, shaking her head.

"Silly elflings." She laughed.

"M'lady, there appears to be more to you than is apparent. Such strength I have never beheld from that of the fairer sex!" laughed Thranduil. "Mayhap you should be my new advisor! I venture to say that I would have fewer disagreements with visiting dignitaries and royalty if you were."

She chuckled as she walked to Legolas's side. "Nay, good king. I appreciate the offer, but I prefer the out of doors to confining council chambers. T'would rather command armies and fight Orcs than twiddle quills. However, should you require the services of a Marchwarden, then, by all means, m'lord, please summon me."

Thranduil laughed. "Well then, let us see what we can do in that regard, m'lady," he said, throwing a sideways glance at Legolas and winked. Arohtarë smiled and just shook her head as the three submerged themselves into planning for the future.

A month later, Legolas and Arohtarë were subject to the celebratory part of their marriage ceremony. The gathering of friends and family. Most of Mirkwood was in attendance and Thranduil blessed their binding officially and with open arms. Aragorn, Arwen, Gimli, Elrond, Gandalf, the four hobbits, Eomer, Éowyn and all of their friends were in attendance, including Galadriel, Celeborn, Rumil and Orophin. Seeing her kin brought back pleasant, as well as, painful memories of her life in Lórien. Seeing Haldir's brothers made her yearn for the Golden Wood, the tall Mallyrn, the beautiful talans, the sparkling ponds.

Her breath hitched in her throat as a strong urge for Haldir's arms to be wrapped tightly about her slammed into the forefront of her mind. She let out a sharp gasp; soft enough that no one in the crowd could hear, but loud enough for Legolas to pick up. She held her hand to her chest and bowed her head slightly.

"Meleth? What troubles you? Are you well?" asked Legolas, rapidly taking her by the arm for support.

"Ai'. 'Tis naught to worry about, golden one. Just memories reminding me that they are still close," she said quietly, glancing at Rumil and Orophin across the table. Legolas looked at the two brothers for a moment, then back at Arohtarë. He curled his arm about her waist and leaned close to her ear.

"It will take time, meleth. I know what you are feeling and I am not blind to your pain, hiril-nîn."

She looked into his crystal orbs, tears welling up in her own but she would not allow them to fall. "Do not feel that I love you less, Legolas. For, if aught, I love you deeply and more so than life itself. 'Tis just…" She sighed softly. "…147 winters was a long time for me, meleth."

"Istan Arohtarë, meleth-nîn. Istan. Im veleth lle, hiril-nîn," he whispered back, kissing her cheek then her lips.

"Sit. 'Tis time for more merriment than despair. Enjoy this day melethril. I will always be here for you."

She sat down, smiling up at him and taking comfort that he was truly her golden light in times of darkness. They held hands all through dinner and danced almost every dance that the musicians came up with, and he made certain that she was occupied almost every moment of the celebration. Through such attentions, he was able to clear her mind of the past as he led her around the dance floor, gliding gracefully to the ethereal melodies and holding her close to him. She rested her head against his shoulder, eyes closed and her hand in his against his chest.

As the last dance came to an end, she looked deeply into his eyes. "Im veleth lle, mallyn-nîn galad."

He raised a dark brow in surprise at her name for him and pulled away slightly to look at her face. "Golden light, meleth?"

"Aye, Legolas. You have always been such to me since the moment we walked the glades of Lórien. If not for your presence that dawn, after the battle at the Hornburg, I would have passed before your eyes."

He looked at her intently. "How so, Arohtarë?" She gazed past his shoulder, recalling her intent that night.

"You may have believed that I sought Haldir's body that night, only to recover his weaponry and mark the site of his fall." Legolas gazed at her as they made their way to their table.

"Aye. T'were my thoughts at the time," he said, studying her face with concern. She looked directly into his eyes, a steely glare making its way to the surface.

"T'was not my true intent, Legolas. Truth be told, I sought him out to die at his side by my own hand. Your sudden appearance caused otherwise. Your constant presence, from that moment onward, managed to still my hand from doing such. I was very angry at you for that in the beginning." He stared at her in disbelief and shock.

"Arohtarë …you would not have meant to do such…" Though he knew deep within his heart that she did.

"Aye I would. Such was the depth of my grief." He closed his eyes and took in a sharp breath, then opened them and gazed intently into his wife's.

He cupped his hands around her face saying, "My presence in your life was meant to be, Arohtarë. Since the very day I met you all those years ago. What you have spoken says as much. Allow me to ease your mind for I know that your pain is still close. You are with me now, and shall always be until your last breath. I will show you naught but comfort, compassion and love until the end of your days. I shall not leave your side, meleth. Ever. I promise you.…Even in death…" She caressed his cheek then leaned into his shoulder whispering her love for him.

The next morning found the contingent from Lórien, Thranduil, Legolas and Arohtarë all conclaved in the king's library. Galadriel and Arohtarë, their heads bent towards each other conspiratorially, were talking among themselves as Legolas looking at them warily.

"Ion-nîn. What devilry do those two chance to concoct? I fear something is afoot," whispered the king, waiving his finger in the two women's direction.

"I am thinking the same. 'Tis a dangerous sight, those two together," quipped Legolas. He chuckled softly as his father led him to the desk where Celeborn, Rumil and Orophin poured over several maps.

"M'lady, I cannot fathom the fact that you shall be leaving us. All these years! These millennia! I cannot bear to lose yet another of my family." Galadriel took Arohtarë 's hands in hers and smiled warmly.

"'Tis my time young one and I have lived a long and fruitful life here. You will not be alone as Lord Celeborn, Rumil and Orophin shall reside in Middle-earth for quite some time to come. And, you have Legolas and the king, Gimli, Aragorn, Arwen, your hobbit friends. These are all your family. Take heart dear one as you are surrounded by many who care for you. You have been blessed with long life and a wonderful husband to spend it with."

Galadriel turned slightly to better look at the woman.

"Take what you have been given, Arohtarë, in both hands. There is much to come of your life and the days ahead that you do not see as of yet. Make no rash judgments or decisions and take life a day as it comes."

The lady cupped her hands around the mortal's face, seeing the unshed tears clinging to the corners of Arohtarë's eyes. "I will be with you always, even from Valinor, for I shall still be able to speak with you. So, you see, I will really not be leaving you."

Arohtarë squeezed the Lady's hands gently then said, "I wish to accompany you to the Gray Havens, if I may. It will be the closest I shall ever come to Valinor to see those off that I have loved my entire life. I understand that Lord Elrond and Gandalf shell be joining you."

"Aye, as will Frodo and Bilbo, the halflings."

"Ai'. All the remaining ring bearers depart with you. I wondered about that," said the mortal woman rufully. "When do you sail?"

"In a fortnight's time, my child. I shall be leaving on the morrow." Arohtarë looked sadly into the Elda's eyes, tears burning in her own.

"I shall miss you dearly m'lady…" She paused then finished, "...Naneth," She whispered as they embraced.

"And I you, Arohtarë. You have served us bravely and well all these years, you and Haldir. Know there are special places for you both in our hearts."

As they broke from their embrace Legolas walked towards them, extending his hand to Arohtarë. The mortal looked at the Lady who gestured for her to go with him.

"Come love, I wish to take advantage of this beautiful day."

She took his hand, biding Galadriel good day, and let him lead her out to the paths. Legolas noted the rather somber mood that had descended upon his wife earlier and was determined to shake her of it. Before she could ask where they were going, he had led her to the stables where Arod and Moredreth were waiting patiently. She looked at Legolas who smiled back at her mischievously. A daypack was tethered to the side of Arod.

"And just what, pray tell, do you have in mind my dear Princeling?"

"Never you mind wife. Mount up," he said in feigned sternness, pointing to her horse with a smile.

They rode for several hours until they came to a gorgeous pool, fed by a small waterfall. Legolas spread out a large blanket at the pool's edge and took the pack from Arod's side. He placed various foods and fruits upon it, and then pulled a bottle of spiced apple wine and two goblets from the pack last. Arohtarë 's eyes lit up at the display spread before her, her eyes resting upon the golden haired object of her desire sitting cross-legged at its center. She stepped onto the blanket and sat near him as he poured her a draught of wine.

"I wished to lighten the dark mood that has been cloaking you since this morn, meleth. We have had little time to ourselves since the wedding and have had many guests to placate. Now, I wish to placate only my wife. If she shall so allow," he said through half hooded eyes, and passed the goblet to her. She took it and put it down on the blanket, her eyes never leaving his. She then reached for his goblet and placed it next to hers and moved closer to him, drawing his face to hers.

"I love you, Legolas of Mirkwood," she whispered as she caressed his cheek and ran her fingers through several lengths of his hair. "And wish to do so right here and now." His eyes darkened as she leaned into him gently and lowered him to the blanket in a passionate kiss. "I so allow…" she whispered as he took her in a passionate embrace. 


	15. Chapter 15

Healing A World

It was near dusk when the couple returned to the stables. Dinner was almost ready to be served by the time they made it to their chambers to freshen up. Once dressed, they entered the feasting hall to join the others already gathered. Everyone gave them knowing smiles, especially Haldir's brothers. Legolas shot them a do-not-utter-a-word-if-you-know-what's-good-for-you look before sitting next to his wife. Thranduil cleared his throat saying, "I trust you had a most enjoyable day, young ones?"

"Aye." They both said in unison, not looking directly at the king.

He stifled a laugh as he motioned for the meal to be served, then addressed the guests at the table; "We shall ride with Lady Galadriel in the morn, as you all know. I trust all will be able to make the trip?" He gazed from one face to the other. All nodded their heads in agreement as he raised his goblet in a toast. "To the Fellowship, and to all those who have contributed and sacrificed for the peace that now befalls Middle-earth, and our realm."

Voices and words of, "Here, here..." echoed throughout the hall as the toast was made.

"To Lady Galadriel. May you find safe passage to the Undying Lands and find everlasting peace from your burden on this earth."

They all drank to the great lady, the finality of her passing hitting home as they set their goblets down. The festivities went late into the night before all retired to their chambers for the eve.

The next morning found the contingent mounted and riding towards the Havens. All but the hobbits were silent and lost in their thoughts. The little ones were chattering away regarding elves, Valinor and such, while Arohtarë was riding beside Legolas, head bowed and quiet. Occasionally she would raise her head and smile a bit sadly at the prince. He returned the affection but, inwardly, he was worried. Seeing one of her closest family members leave her sight forever could very well send her into an abyss of deep grief once more. One that she might not recover from this time.

He couldn't bear to see her go through that torment again, and was determined to keep her close for as long as it would take for her to recover from yet another loss. Over the course of the next two weeks, he watched her closely, noting that she sought the solitude of their quarters when they stopped for the evenings. She kept mostly to herself, save when they slept. He kept a close watch, not wanting her to seek solstice in the forest if he could help it. He knew that this would have been her first choice to seek solitude, and one he wasn't going to risk losing her to.

Galadriel also was concerned about the mortal. She felt the pain and turmoil rolling through the woman's mind and soul, as Arohtarë struggled to hold herself together through the departure of the only one she had ever known as her mother. Legolas had voiced his concern to her, about the rapidly degrading condition of his wife's emotional state, but the Lady had told him not to be alarmed quite yet. Yes, she had stated, this latest loss would be difficult for her.

This he didn't deny, but Arohtarë would recover, if certain things were taken into consideration. Galadriel had advised the prince to heavily involve Arohtarë in the military affairs of Eryn Lasgalan. Help her refocus on the fact that she still was a useful member of the living, and that there were those who still depended greatly upon her. Galadriel had told him to make sure she had the feeling of attachment, that she was dearly needed. He had given much thought to what the Lady had said, even before they had their conversation, and his father was also contemplating such action.

The last time Legolas had come to the Lady with his concerns, was the last eve that they would all be together. He entered her quarters and sat in silence for a while before Galadriel broke it. "Legolas, do not trouble yourself over your wife's sadness. She is holding it well, though only you are able to see through her warrior's façade. There is light, in what she and you may now see as darkness, young one." Legolas looked up at hearing her words. She was smiling at him as she held Celeborn's hand. They were both smiling at him now.

"Celeborn will be approaching your father with a proposition after my departure. He will suggest that our two realms be combined in Eryn Lasgalan. Arohtarë will be greatly pleased and surprised by this, once it is agreed upon. She will then have the best of both worlds, as she will have you by her side, her new royal family, and the remaining members of her Lórien family, living within her new home. What she now thinks to be lost will be found once more." Legolas listened in disbelief. Even if they were rebuilding the realm of Ithilien, Arohtarë would be close to those she loved.

"M'lady, this is definitely good news. It lifts my heart as well. Her pain is deep and all consuming and, I have been at my wits end trying to bring her around. I have felt helpless, these past days, not knowing how to comfort her. This has come at a perfect time, though, can she yet be told?" he said, looking at the lord and lady with concern.

"Nay. Not as yet. You will need to hold her true until such is made known. I shall be entertaining this idea with King Thranduil, as we make our return to your realm. Mayhap, by the time were arrive; the decision will have been made. I cannot promise that things shall happen swiftly, but I can say that I have no reservations that it will not come to pass eventually. Thranduil is a wise king and will know this is in the best interests for Middle Earth's remaining Firstborn," said Celeborn firmly.

"I suppose I can encourage her with thoughts of good tidings yet to come, or some such, to keep her spirits up in the meanwhile," said the prince, shrugging.

"Aye. You will think of something to lift her from the shadows she now walks within. Your love for her alone will bring her about. Have faith in yourself, Legolas, and your bond. She will still her hand upon her contemplated actions, simply by you being in her sight. Go to her now, and bring her comfort, for she still harbors enough grief and thought to fade before long, mellon." The elf looked at the Lady with alarm.

"Still this passes through her mind?"

"Aye, Legolas. It has never completely left her. You, through your love and the comfort you have provided her after Haldir's passing, has kept her with us all this time, whether you realize it or not." She paused, bowiung her head slightly as she contemplated her next words. Raising her eyes to meet his, she spoke again.

"Know this young prince. Fear of abandonment has tormented her throughout her entire life. The waning time of the Elves has been extremely traumatic for her to come to grips with. She fears being left to die alone, in the realm of Man, a realm she knows little about. Aside from her blood, she is an Elf in every sense, mellon-nîn. She cannot live amongst the Race of Men as her life, as you now know, shall be very long and she may very well live through, and past, the time when the last Elf passes from these shores. With this knowledge, you have the opportunity to help her rid herself of such thoughts, once and forever." Legolas sat in silence, mulling over what had been said. Abandonment? That had been brought up by his father, during their first meeting.

He had seen the effect those words had had upon her, as soon as they had left his father's lips. He had not told Arohtarë that, while marching through Umbar during the War, that, he himself, had heard the call of the sea. It would kill her just to know that his heart had been touched by the cry of the gull. He shook his head. No. There was much to do yet before that final journey would be made, if it would be made by him at all. First and foremost, Arohtarë firmly held him here; secondly, the pending undertaking in Ithilien would take him through many years and lifetimes of men to accomplish what he was setting out to do.

Standing, he thanked the lord and lady, bowed and took his leave, then made his way to his quarters. Arohtarë was already asleep when he got there. He silently made his way to her side and sat by her. "You shall never be abandoned, meleth, never. As long as I breathe and my heart beats, you shall have me by your side. Always," he whispered, as he stroked her cheek and kissed her softly. Once undressed, he slid under the covers by her side and took her in his arms. He was determined that he would rid her of this dark shroud by the new morn's light.

Arohtarë was the first to stir the next morning. She found herself securely wrapped in Legolas's arms, pressed against his chest. Not wanting to wake him, she remained as she was, laying her hands atop his arms, and contemplating the coming departure. Was she strong enough to go through another such loss? She glanced up at the sleeping Elf. Alone? Nay. That was assured. With Legolas in her life? Aye. It was quite possible she could move past this new heartache, trying as it was. She hoped she could anyway. It was taking everything she was made up of just to hold herself from careening over that deadly abyss she had been warned about her whole life. It was most difficult with Haldir's passing. Now Galadriel?

She absently tightened her grip on Legolas's arms as she thought; her actions causing the Elf to awaken. She turned and watched his eyes focus and brighten as they came out of their glazed stasis.

"Maer aur, meleth-nîn. You slept well?" he whispered, kissing the crown of her head.

"Aye. Surprisingly," she replied softly. He gently moved her from his arms, allowing her to lie back against the pillows. He propped himself up on his arm and gazed down at his wife.

"Arohtarë. There are things I desire to speak with you about before we rise."

She looked up at him expectantly.

He thought a moment then spoke. "Meleth, you have reached back to the place you were at the Hornburg, and it worries me to no end." She sighed, looking away. He reached out and curled his fingers around her chin, drawing her face back to his.

"Please, hear me, melethril. I promise you will be pleased by what I shall say…I am hoping that your heart will be much lighter as well." He kissed her lightly. She smiled sadly, bidding him to continue.

"Though I am not at liberty to say exactly what shall transpire, I can say that great things are proposed to happen to our realm of Eryn Lasgalan in the coming months. You shall be figured prominently among these wondrous workings that have yet to pass. We shall have much ahead of us, meleth-nîn, in the long years to come, and I need you hale and whole by my side."

He finished, tracing the outline of her lips with his fingers. She gazed into his eyes, seeing a mixture of hope, worry and great love.

"You speak these words to me now, as you fear for me once again, do you not?"

Legolas blinked and then sighed. "Aye, Arohtarë, I fear for you and have for the days we have been on the trail."

"Your fears are well founded, golden one, for the grip of grief hovers over me like a Nazgûl." He gazed at her with a hint of fear in his eyes. Seeing his worry she added, "Know that your words give me a shard of hope through the mist," she said, as she reached up and curled her hand around his neck, drawing his lips to hers.

"You shall not be left alone, meleth. Never. I shall not leave you, Arohtarë. Not while your essence graces this earth. You have many, many years to your walk, and we have much to do in Ithilien and the realm of Eryn Lasgalen. Yes, my people, our people, are leaving, but I shall not. Not for many, many winters to come, if I do at all. Even Galadriel has told you she will still be close." He held her a bit tighter as he continued.

"I know this is hard for you but, please, try to bring yourself back to your good humor. It tears at me to see you sinking into the great void," he said softly, holding her closer against his chest and held back the tears threatening to fall. "If anything, think what will become of me, should you leave me now. I cannot bear to lose you for a second time in my life," he whispered, hoping that Galadriel's words would ring true.

"I shall try Golden Light," a faint voice said.

"Then that is all I can ask, meleth. I will help you all that I am able," he breathed, kissing the side of her face and and laying them back into the bedding. They lay in each other's arms for a while longer before rising for the day.

They left the Gray Havens only after the tall sails of the white ship passed from view, and several hours after the last of the ring bearers had boarded her. Legolas could feel the pain, sadness, and grief pouring out of his wife in great waves, yet to the others present, she appeared the pillar of calm and serenity. He held her tightly about the shoulder with one hand, while holding her hand with his other. Galadriel had whispered to him final words of encouragement before she moved up the gangplank, making his heart rest at ease. She would be well. His love and strength was already at work; mending the mortal woman's soul. She could see it. "She will prevail, Legolas Thranduilion, give her time. You both shall. Namarie, princeling," she had said, kissing his forehead.

"Come love, we have a long few days ahead." He looked over his shoulder at the remaining members of their small group. " Aragorn, Arwen, you shall leave us for Gondor?"

"Aye, Legolas. We retire to our home. We shall ride with you until our paths turn."

"And you Merry, Pippin, Sam? You will head homeward as well?"

"Aye, Legolas. We shall do the same." Came Sam's reply.

"Well father, it appears it shall be the four of us returning to Eryn Lasgalen," he said, glancing at Celeborn. As they made their way back towards the east, Aragorn and Arwen turned south towards Minis Tirith, the hobbits turning north towards the Shire. Bidding them all farewell, Thranduil, Celeborn, Legolas, Arohtarë, and their warrior contingent hurried eastward. They spent several days in Imladris before continuing onward to Eryn Lasgalen. All during the journey, Celeborn and Thranduil were in constant council discussing the merging of both elven realms.

Occasionally, Legolas would be called to join, but Arohtarë was purposefully kept out of such conclaves. This got her to wondering, as she was the Princess, was she not? Why was she not included? She put this question to Legolas several times, and was met each time by him deftly sidestepping the issue saying that, until certain things were decided upon, her role would come into play at a later time. He knew that his answers did not sit well with her, nor did it make for comfort being in the Marchwarden's presence, irritated as she was.

One night, he had returned to their quarters only to find the highly annoyed feline Arohtarë pacing the floor, green eyes glowering, and lowly growling at him. She did not change into her mortal form until morn, leaving him in an uncomfortable state all that night. Let alone chilly. He laughed silently to himself though, knowing that all was being done in secrecy for her benefit. He just hoped he could wait out her wrath, shape shifting, and cold shoulder in the time that it took to draw up the documentation to make the two realms one.

Finally they reached Eryn Lasgalen in the morning, almost three weeks after seeing Galadriel off to the Undying Lands. That evening, Legolas accompanied Arohtarë to Thranduil's chambers, where both he and Celeborn were chatting over some paperwork. Upon the couple entering the room, the two kings rose and nodded to them; Thranduil offering Arohtarë a seat between the two of them. Legolas sat across from the three.

"Well, m'lady, I am sure that you have been wondering what has been up with the three of us, skulking about all hours of the eve the past fortnight, eh?" asked Thranduil bemused.

She threw an annoyed glance at the prince who stifled a laugh, then looked at his father. "You could say as much. Aye," she voiced curtly.

Both kings laughed, as Legolas had been keeping them informed of her rapidly failing patience, and gaining annoyance with them all. "Before we delve too deeply into discussions this eve, we would like you to look over these maps and tell us what you think." He passed several large rolled parchments to her. All three watched her intently as she unrolled them one by one, her eyes growing wider with the unfurling of each. By the time she had spread the last one across the table, her mouth was ajar. She poured over each one taking in every last detail, then looked up, staring dumbfoundedly at the three elves. Legolas came around the table, leant down, and kissed her with a chuckle.

She cleared her throat and asked, 'When will the unification of the two realms take place, my lieges?"

"As of this eve, m'lady, both kingdoms are one." He glanced at Celeborn then addede, "At least, they have been on parchment." He turned back toward the woman.

"You shall be traveling to Lórien, with Lord Celeborn, in a week's time to ready Lórien's people for the journey north. Upon your return, you shall then begin work on unifying both armies into one. Rumil and Orophin will be assisting you," said Thranduil. All three elves watched her expression turn from shock into disbelief.

"But, but…this is what I would have been doing in Lórien. These were my duties. You would give me this station in your own wood, my liege?" She glanced from one to the other.

She cleared her throat. "I mean, Legolas…He is the Captain of the Guard here. I could not…Ai'!…Legolas? Ithilien?!" She started muttering, sending the three elves into throes of laughter.

"Are you saying, m'lady, that you do not wish to be Marchwarden of East Lórien and Eryn Lasgalen?"

"Nay! I have not said that! What of Rumil and Orophin? They are more deserving of such titles. They are Elfkind and have patrolled the Golden Wood for millennia."

She turned her gaze to the prince. "And Legolas! You have captained Mirkwood's army for almost two thousand years, for the love of Arda!" Thranduil and the others looked at her bemused. Celeborn turned to the woman.

"You have been a Marchwarden for close to 130 years, correct?"

"Aye."

"You captained the Galadhrim for close to the same, aye?"

"Aye. Along with Haldir and his brothers."

"You marched to the Hornburg as his Second Captain?"

"Aye. True. But only because Rumil and Orophin were bid to stay in Lórien, otherwise, I would have not been in tandem command."

"You have been given all of Haldir's duties, m'lady. His brothers are not offended, and truly are quite happy in the duties they now perform. In actuality, they have recommended that you take up this position now offered. They are happy to fight and command under orders, not strategize. You are the war strategist for the Galadhrim, and shall continue to be such as long as you wish."

She let out a long breath then looked at Legolas. "And you, meleth? You are Captain of your people. What of this? How does this sit with you? My greatest grandparents were not even of this earth when you took command, by the Valar!" Legolas laughed.

"I have other responsibilities now that would keep me from such, Arohtarë. You forget that I will now be Lord of Ithilien, with you as my Lady. I need an experienced war master to deal with military matters and I cannot do both. The armies shall be in your hands, meleth. Choose your Captains for both Eryn Lasgalen and Lórien. I willingly retire from such station!" he replied with a chuckle.

She sat before the royal elves, bewildered and stunned that they would even have considered such from her. But, consider her they had. She thrummed her fingers softly on the table leaning back in her chair, eyes closed, a thousand thoughts rolling through her mind. As he watched her come to grips with her new life's responsibilities, Legolas felt every nuance of her discomfort and uncertainty.

You shall do well meleth-nin. We know your strengths and skills. Take this opportunity with a light heart. You are sorely needed to make this unification solid and successful. Legolas's melodic voice infiltrated her thoughts, and startled her into making her first decisions. She glanced at the Elf who nodded silently in encouragement, a slight smile gracing his lips.

"Ai', for the love of Arda! How do I find myself is such predicaments, may I ask?" she grumbled, the three snickering around her. "By the Valar! Well then, Rumil and Orophin shall remain Lórien's Captains. Legolas! Who is your second, and do you trust he or she can take on the duties of our realm's army?"

"Thulien is my second. He is quite capable of taking such a command and I trust him with my life."

"So be it. He shall be our Captain. Are there any others from whom I can choose as another?"

Legolas thought a moment. "Celin would be a good choice. He has been Thulien's Lieutenant for ages."

"Good. He shall be our second." She let out a long breath. The trio gazed at her bemused. "Well, by Eru, I believe I have been taken to task enough for one day by a troupe of old, crafty and conniving elves. One being my husband no less…" She threw Legolas a feigned look of annoyance as she rose. "I take it I am free to take my leave then?"

'As you wish, m'lady." said Thranduil chuckling.

"Dolle lle, my liege. I shall call those chosen for command in the morn for council. Who is to be my emissary, may I ask?"

"Until you are able to choose from the ranks or officers, Eldrin can fill that position. He is my trusted emissary and would not mind holding the position for you temporarily," said Thranduil, nodding to the Elf by the doors. "Eldrin, come forward."

The regal looking Elf walked towards the king, bowing as he came to his side. "You will be taking on the temporary duties of military emissary for Lady Arohtarë. I trust you have no objections?"

"Not at all, my liege. It shall be a pleasure," said the emissary, bowing to Arohtarë and taking her hand in a kiss.

"Wonderful! First thing in the morn, Eldrin, I will need you to summon, Lórien's two Captains, Rumil and Orophin, and Eryn Lasgalan's first and second Lieutenants, Thulien and Celin, to my quarters."

"By you command m'lady …" He looked questioningly to Thranduil for the rank he should address her by. Thranduil looked to Arohtarë. She just rolled her eyes.

"I have known no other rank higher than Captain my entire life. Titles do not impress me nor do I find need for such." she sighed and put her hands on her hips, gazing over at the now four elves looking back at her. "However, if Your Highness requires denoting of status, I shall leave that up to you, my liege," she quipped to the king.

"'My liege' it shall be then. You are now Princess of Eryn Lasgalen, soon to be Lady of Ithilien, are you not?" said the king, looking towards Celeborn and Legolas. Both nodded in agreement. "I do not believe there is any higher rank than one of royalty," said Thranduil with a chuckle.

"By your command, m'liege," repeated Eldrin to the woman, bowing to Arohtarë with a slight smile.

"Ai'." She threw her hands in the air. "As long as everyone is happy. As for myself, I am still Arohtarë, no matter what I am called otherwise," she muttered, rising once more from the table amidst chuckles from the elves and taking her leave.

"Good eve father, Lord Celeborn," said Legolas, bowing and taking Arohtarë by the hand as they left the king's chambers. As they exited, Thranduil turned to Celeborn.

"Uniting the kingdoms of Lórien and Mirkwood will be the last of the greatest tasks left in Elvendom, Celeborn. That we are blessed with Legolas and Arohtarë in the mix, is a gift of the Valar," he said, clasping the great lord's shoulder as the king led him back to the table and poured them some wine.

Legolas and Arohtarë walked in silence as they made their way to their chambers. He had a cheshire cat's grin playing upon his lips as he threw quick glances at his wife.

She was muttering unintelligibly under her breath, he knowing she was well past being flustered and annoyed. He was prepared for a rather fitful night's sleep, for she would most likely take him to task well into the morning star hours, regarding the covert way in which they had ensnared her to take up such duties. They reached the door of their chambers, Legolas opening it and allowing Arohtarë to enter first. She promptly removed her harness and weaponry, stretched, then removed her cloak and boots, all in silence. The prince eyed her from across the room, waiting patiently for the play of twenty questions he was most certain to receive before long. She caught his gaze and returned it with a silent smile, deftly disarming him. He was a bit perplexed but remained silent as he readied for bed.

To his surprise, she walked out to the balcony instead of coming to bed. He felt a wave of concern wash over him and all mirth left his face. "Meleth-nîn, are you well? You have spoken naught since we left my father." he frowned. "You are angry with us?" he said softly, coming up behind her and clasping her shoulders gently while kissing her neck. She snaked her hand up behind and around his neck as he did so, catching his lips in hers.

"Nay, my prince, I am not angry with any of you. I have been out-flanked and bested by three cunning ancients, tis true, but I hold no malice in my heart for your actions." She smiled wistfully up at him. He turned her to face him, holding her gaze with concern.

She chuckled, seeing his expression. "I am well, bend-nîn. Verily. Do not worry yourself on my account," she told him, stroking his cheek.

"Why hold such melancholy, beneth-nîn? At least, it appears such."

"Nay. 'Tis not! Not in the least. I have just been overwhelmed by the benevolence that has been bestowed upon me this eve, meleth,. 'Tis all." She rested her hands against his chest and leaned her head back against his shoulder.

He smiled broadly, now understanding. She was more bewildered than anything. He hugged her close to him, running his fingers through her hair. "You are well loved, Arohtarë. More so than you may know. 'Tis not only my heart that holds a warm place for you. You have touched my father in this way, and he is not one to have such feelings; at least, not one to show that he harbors such. Your arrival in Eryn Lasgalen has melted his ancient heart."

He pulled slightly away from the woman so as to look into her eyes. "As you have put a flame to mine, meleth," he told her with a gentle kiss. Putting his arm around her shoulders, he said, "Come, meleth, 'tis late and we have a long day on the morrow." Leading her to their bed, they undressed and climbed in beside each other.

"The Lady is most wonderful, is she not?" said Arohtarë, curling against his chest, he wrapping his arms about her shoulders.

"Aye. She is," he said, glancing down at her, a hint of curiousness in his voice and a smile curled around his lips. She giggled and snuggled deeper into his arms.

"As are you, your father and Lord Celeborn. You have all given me reason to continue on. I am truly happy, Legolas. Do not worry for me any longer, meleth-nîn," she said with a soft yawn, as she reached up and gently kissed the Elf's lips. He kissed the crown of her head and silently thanked the Valar for her return. Haldir, mellon-nîn, you truly were blessed, and have blessed my life in turn. Thank you for your gift to me, for Arohtarë, for the life we now share. May your spirit pass to the shores of Valinor, mellon. Mayhap until then, peace brother. He prayed, turning and holding his life's love tightly in his arms. 


	16. Chapter 16

Eryn Lasgalen and the March From the Golden Wood

Within a week's time, Arohtarë was on her way to Lórien, and Legolas on his way to Ithilien. He had taken several hundred elves from Eryn Lasgalen to settle and rebuild the lands. It would be many months before Arohtarë returned with Celeborn and Lórien's people, so he had some time to build their quarters.

She entered the fading golden wood with a heavy heart at seeing how quickly her homeland had deteriorated. It had been less than a year, but it had taken little time for Galadriel's power to wane once she had taken to the White Ship. Rumil and Orophin were ecstatic to see her once more, though it was a bittersweet reunion. So much had changed, so many lives lost, and few friends and family remained. The three took solstice in the fact that they were all going to be together again, until the remaining elves decided to take to the gray ships, hopefully many years from now.

Arohtarë and her uncles worked for six months, and then some, to ready the Galadhrim for the long trip to the green wood. There were still hundreds of troops to move, supply and outfit, and all of the foundries had to be moved as well. There would be much in the way of equipment and elvencraft that would need to be transported. All in all, Arohtarë figured it would take well nigh a full sun's journey to make the trip, let alone ready all for the journey.

She resigned herself to the fact that it would be close to a year before she would return to Eryn Lasgalen and her husband. Messengers traversed the Ithilien Plains regularly, with news and orders, but both the prince and princess would have rathered each other's company over a piece of parchment. This was the most time they had been apart since their initial meeting 150 years prior, and neither had thought such an extended parting would have befallen them again.

Legolas sighed as he reread Arohtarë's most recent letter. Things were moving along in Lórien, albeit not at the speed she would have liked. She joked that what had taken nigh seven thousand years to create would not move easily in less than a year! She was hell-bent on traveling light and leaving all that would be of little use. Nothing of duplication would be taken, and anything that was of better quality would be take to Eryn Lasgalen, where the obsolete items would be discarded and fitted with the Lórien piece work.

He could tell that, after four moons away, his wife's patience was wearing thin. She was so much like her father that he was gladdened that Haldir's brothers were there with her. They, at least, were accustomed to dealing with irritable, irate and somewhat arrogant marchwardens, and had nigh five thousand years of experience doing so. He knew that, once she was on the march, her pace would be breakneck. He chuckled. Rumil and Orophin could, at least, keep her from killing her assistants and from marching the troops to an early death.

Arohtarë read Legolas's latest letter with amusement. He was pining for her return, and having a difficult time knowing what to do with himself until then. She laughed loudly. Here was the great Prince of Mirkwood, one of the greatest elven warriors known to Elvendom in the Third Age and Middle Earth even, slayer of great fell beasts and monsters, pining for his wife. She hurriedly scribbled, "You are supposed to be helping to rebuilding Ithilien, Gondor and Arnor, for the sake of Arda! What do you mean you do not know what to do with yourself, you silly Elf? I pine for you as well husband, but at least I have moving an army and a realm to keep me occupied in the meanwhile!"

He read her lines with wry humor in his laugh. Aye, her patience was past waning. It had left her completely. Rumil had written him a pleading letter a moon or so prior, begging him to please come and take her back to the green wood, as she was increasing the level of efficiency for their relocation to unheard of levels, and causing some to pledge on taking to the Ships, once out of Lórien. Even those harboring the hardiest stamina were hard pressed to keep up with her demands. Orophin said that even Celeborn did not come to visit with them anymore to see how things progressed, seeing that she had him set to work as well when he did.

Thranduil had chanced to come the following week to see how things progressed in Ithilien, and had arrived just as Lórien's messenger did. He found Legolas doubled over in laughter with one of Arohtarë's letters in his hands. Celeborn had threatened to secede before even joining with Eryn Lasgalen, because of her tasking the Galadhrim so hard. She had accused him of slowing down in his old age and becoming no more than a grumpy old Elf since she had arrived.

"Legolas, I have to say that most of this is all of our faults. None had thought it would have been this great of an undertaking. We did not plan on you two being apart for so long," said the king, once his son had regained his composure.

"Adar, I think we have set a demon of Mordor loose in the Realm of the Golden Wood. Celeborn shall never forgive us." He was joined by his father in another peal of laughter.

Several more months passed and Arohtarë sent word that the Galadhrim had finally set out for Eryn Lasgalen. She said to expect the first of the contingent to arrive in a month's time, as they were lightly burdened and would include Celeborn. The foundries and properties would be coming next, accompanied by a portion of the Lórien Guard, commanded by Rumil. The next contingent would be the general citizens of Lórien, accompanied by another portion of the Guard, commanded by Orophin, finally to be followed by the largest portion of the Guard, commanded by Arohtarë.

Thranduil met a weary Celeborn, as the first of the four contingents entered his realm. "Celeborn, finally you have arrived. I trust your journey was pleasant and uneventful?" The Lórien lord eyed the king dourly.

"Aye. Pleasant because there was no whip at my back to move more swiftly!" Thranduil laughed and helped the Lord from his mount and lead him into the palace. Legolas was there to greet him and caught an earful about the evils of his wife.

"There has been no peace in the wood since the lady arrived! 'Tis like the war all over again!" the Lord bellowed. Both King and Prince tried unsuccessfully to shield their laughter.

"Celeborn, did you think that this would all have come to completion in a year or less?"

"Nay, I did not…but I did not believe that such a taskmaster lay beneath the surface of our Marchwarden."

"And why ever not? Was not her father just as she? Where do you think she received such gifts of command and arrogance, eh?" asked the king.

"We did not bargain for the fact that her separation from Legolas would cause all of her wrath to fall upon our heads either, good king," said Celeborn, eying Legolas coolly.

Legolas raised his brow as the Lord glanced at him. He merely tipped his wine goblet in his direction and smiled sheepishly. Celeborn turned fully towards the Prince and said, "You may smirk now young Princeling, but hearken to my words. You are dead in her sights as we speak, young Elf, and you best be prepared for all out combat upon her arrival. She is riding hard and fast, bent upon arriving well nigh, or before, the second contingent arrives. There will be little left of you once she gets her claws into your hide, I fear."

Legolas nearly choked on his wine, sputtering it all over the tablecloth. He had forgotten how close to the truth the Lord spoke, as he described his wife. If naught, their reunion would be anything but tender. At least, the first night would not be. She'd be at him like a hawk on its prey. He realized, for the first time since they had bonded, that he would literally be the mouse in the cat's paws. He grimaced as the two lords filled his ears with hearty laughter.

Contrary to Celeborn's words, however, the second and third contingent arrived as scheduled. It was the largest and last contingent that was late in its appearence. A messenger arrived a week after Arohtarë's contingent was supposed to arrive, stating that they had encountered several skirmishes with several bands of Orcs and Warg riders. Arohtarë had sent the messenger, asking for news as to whether or not the first three groups had made it safely through the Plains. When pressed further as to how Arohtarë and the Guard fared, the messenger had nothing more to report, other than all was well and that they were moving along unhindered at the present time.

Less than a fortnight later, Arohtarë's group limped their way into Eryn Lasgalen, battered and battle-weary. Many had been wounded in the conflicts, but no lives had been lost. Legolas, Thranduil and Celeborn waited patiently for Arohtarë to ride through the gates, but she never did. Legolas sought out her company commander and pressed him for details. The officer took the Prince aside and told him that she never returned from the last Warg skirmish. They had sent out search parties for four days before giving up and moving onward. She had left specific instructions not to spend more than four days searching, as they were in a vulnerable position on the open plains. The commander said that, if she were to rejoin the Guard, it would be at Greenwood and to hold a watch for her. He also said that the watch, selected by the Prince, should be expecting either a human form or that of a great black cat to approach the gates. Legolas was stunned that she would even divulge this fact, but realized that most in the Galadhrim now knew of her gift. His people did not.

He summoned Thulien and Celin, setting them as the watch for his wife, though they were full captains. He trusted no one else for the task. They were his most trusted of his commanders and would protect either he or Arohtarë with their lives. He briefed them on current circumstances and swore them to secrecy on anything they were to either hear or behold. He instructed them to bring her directly to their royal chambers, no matter what her condition or form. Then he and his commanders waited. For two days they waited. For anything...What, they knew not.

The second evening, a dark form was spotted by Thulien who signaled to Celin. Both warriors could barely make out a very large animal, slowly meandering its way towards the gates. A low growl was heard by both commanders as they made their way to open them. When they finally swung them open, they found a very weary and bloodied Princess leaning against the stonework. She fell heavily into Thulien's arms, who took her swiftly to her chambers where Legolas was sleeping. The prince was jolted awake, as Celin pounded on the door frantically. He leapt from the bed and threw the door open, to be met by his captain with Arohtarë in his arms. He laid her on the bed and Legolas sent Celin to fetch the royal healers.

"I shall speak with you both later, my friends. For now, take your rest, well done, and thank you for all things," whispered the prince, as the two warriors took their leave. Legolas hurried back to her side and began removing her armor and tunics. Her entire body was bruised and bloodied, but most of her injuries appeared to be to her right side, her armor being dented badly in that area. She had a deep gash over her left eye and another very long one, running the length of her upper right arm to her elbow. He removed the hinged cuirass from her chest and, as he removed the fauld plate from her abdomen, she gasped out in pain upon the pressure being released from her broken ribs. A dark crimson stain had spread over her tunics beneath, and the fabric was still moist.

"Forgive me meleth…" he whispered, closing his ears to her cries and forcing them from his mind, as he continued to remove the rest of her armor. He was interrupted by a rapping at the door and he called for whomever to enter. The healer, Numeniel, hurried to his side and began to assess the princess's injuries. Once she had removed Arohtarë's under tunic, the severity of the injury to her side was evident. Two ribs protruded from the flesh and they could hear the air rushing in and out as the mortal tried to breathe.

"Her lung is punctured and I cannot assess if a infection has set in, my liege. The ribs need to be set and she has a very high fever, both which must be attended to immediately before anything else. I shall try to set the ribs as best I can, but they may have to be reset once the swelling subsides. My assistant shall need to prepare an Athelias infusion, and soak the bandages before I can wrap her. In the meanwhile, I will close these wounds on her face and arm."

Legolas called to his personal sentry and instructed him to pass Numeniel's instructions on to her assistant, in the healing rooms. Returning to the bed, Legolas winced, as Arohtarë was moaning lowly, while Numeniel prepared the sutures. He took her his wife's and sat on the bed's edge stroking her hair.

"Arohtarë, meleth-nîn…" he whispered, as her eyes weakly fluttered open.

"Legolas...'Tis good to be home, meleth…" she whispered, greatly in pain and trying to keep a sense of humor. He smiled softly and kissed her gently on the lips, as her eyes slowly closed once more.

"My liege?" said Numeniel, as she motioned for the prince to move to the side as she prepared to close the princess's wounds.

"M'lady Majesty, let me help you drink this. Twill help ease the pain as I close these wounds," she said softly, raising Arohtarë's head slightly and putting a vial to her lips. Once the woman had taken the elixir in its entirety, Numeniel began to close Arohtarë's wounds. The woman had fallen back into a deep slumber and felt nothing. A soft rapping brought Legolas to his feet and, as he opened the door, Numeniel's assistant entered, bringing a steaming bowl of medicinal waters and soaking bandages. She put the bowl by the bed and silently left the chambers after being thanked by the prince.

Legolas watched the healer intently, as she finished closing the long ragged wound on Arohtarë's arm, and moved to the gash over her eye. "These wounds have been open for several days, my liege, and I cannot say for certain if they will eventually close without further surgery. I have had to remove much dead flesh from the wound edges as it is."

Legolas frowned in concern as he watched her put the last of the sutures into the brow wound. "What of her lung wound, Numeniel? Will there be further problems as well?" He asked, knowing what the answer most likely would be.

Numeniel glanced up briefly, gazing at the prince and he noting worry in her eyes. "Aye my liege, I fear there will be. We must hope and pray that her powers of healing will lessen the blow somewhat. That wound, if badly infected, could kill her swiftly," she said quietly, as she turned her attention back to her task.

Numeniel completed suturing the head wound and began to search for the puncture in the lung. Finding it, she closed it and then set the broken ribs. As she finished binding the mortal, she looked up at Legolas with hope in her eyes. "This wound does not appear to be too badly infected. It was an impact wound and whatever caused it did not enter her side. The armor kept the wound clean and somewhat closed to the elements. There is hope that she will survive without complications." Legolas breathed a sigh of relief, but she cautioned him.

"She is still not out of the shadow yet, my liege, for her ribs may still not set properly, and more attention may need be given to her sutures elsewhere."

"Aye, I understand, Numeniel, but I have great confidence in her healing powers. I have seen her suffer more grievous, mortal wounds, heal within three days, and with black poison coursing through her veins at that." Numeniel raised her brow at this and smiled slightly. He nodded in response.

"Hearken to my words, Numeniel, she has some amazing abilities," he chuckled and added, "Return in two or three days and you shall see my meaning clear enough."

"As you wish, my liege. You have peaked my interest," she said with a smile as she took her leave. "My assistant shall visit twice each day to tend to her dressings,"

"Aye Numeniel. Thank you for your healing gifts." She nodded as she turned and hurried down the long hall.

Legolas closed the chamber door and returned to his wife's side. He slipped under the covers beside her, leaned on his arm, stroking her hair and traced the outline of her face with his fingers. "What tale do you have to tell, meleth-nîn, that caused you such injury? I pray the Wildeor within shall take you safely from the shadows, and you come back to me whole and hale before long, Arohtarë," he whispered, kissing her softly and gently drawing her near. For the first time in nearly a moon he fell into a calming elvish slumber.

Arohtarë woke late the next day. The healer's assistant came to change her dressings for the second and last time that day."Good day, my liege. How are you faring?" Lindomiel asked, unwrapping the princess's ribs and replacing them with fresh Athelias-soaked bandages.

"Ai'. I have fared better," she jested with a slight chuckle. She grimaced immediately as pain seared through her side.

"I am certain, my liege. You seem to heal quickly, as these gashes are mending very well. Surprisingly so, as a matter of fact," said Lindomiel in surprise as she changed the wrappings, leaving the stitched wound on her arm and over her eye unbound.

"These stitches may be able to be removed by the morrow. I shall speak with Numeniel this eve regarding such," she said, as she collected the old wrappings and took her leave. Arohtarë propped herself up with great difficulty and cursed as the pain drifted through her side once more. Just as the colorful diatribe had left her lips, Legolas entered the chambers, catching the tail end of her tirade.

"Back to your old self I see, love! Such language!" he chided then chuckled, as she shot him an acidic glare, but then started to giggle.

She caught herself and winced again. "Legolas, I am so happy to be home, no matter the condition I crawled through the gates. Come here prince, for I have not felt your arms about me in a sun's time." She reached out her arms weakly, beckoning for him to come to her. He obliged, mindful of her injury, but she ignored all and pulled him into her arms tightly.

"Melethril! Your ribs!"

"Sauron's balls and wounds be damned! I care not of the pain. I only desire to have you near." She hungrily claimed his lips, and he found himself being drawn deeper into her embrace. "I have missed you terribly, Legolas, and the good kings shall hear a piece or two from me regarding my time languishing in Lórien." He chuckled, drawing to mind the Lórien Lord's description of her task mastered organization of the Golden Wood for the trip to Eryn Lasgalen.

"I am sure that they are expecting such," he said snickering, taking her into another kiss and changing the subject. "What happened to you, my sweet?"

She giggled lightly as she winced. "I took the long and scenic route back to Greenwood, melethron. Courtesy of a Warg." The Elf stared at her for a moment, a quizzical look upon his face.

"A Warg, Arohtarë? How so?"

"Dragged, Legolas. I was dragged over half of Ithilien's Eru forsaken wastelands, before I could loose myself from the beast's saddle straps, and finally deal it a death blow. I must have hit every stone and stump along the way."

"Sweet Eru…" He breathed, lightly running his hands down her badly bruised arms and sides. "How in Arda did you manage to finally kill it?" She gave him a comical glance.

"I hued and finally broke free of the tethers. Then I dug my claws into the beast and climbed onto its back. Once settled, I held on and tore its throat open with both paws. My landing was not a gentle one, I can assure you, and I can vouch for the fact tha Wildeor do not always land on all fours..."

"T'would seem…" replied the prince, shaking his head slightly. "The scouts could not find you, though they searched for days. Where were you?"

She gingerly pushed herself closer to the Elf and took his hand. "I found a stone outcrop with a low lying cave. When injured, four-leggeds seek shelter to rest and heal, but you now this. 'T'was instinctive. Hence, my instructions to the guards to only search for a few days then continue on. Once I was strong enough to move again, I made my way to Eryn Lasgalen, albeit slowly. I could not hue to my human form, for I would have been much too weak to travel in that way. You cannot imagine how greatly I praised my Wildeor blood, Legolas. If not for such a gift, I would be lying dead somewhere in Ithilien's wilds."

He took her in an embrace and kissed the crown of her head. "I sing its praises as well, Arohtarë, as will both father and Lord Celeborn. Both have been beside themselves with worry. I have informed them of your return, and both will be greatly relieved to see you in the flesh, as soon as you are able. Mayhap, you would care for them as visitors?" he asked, running his fingers through her hair. She met his gaze and he saw that which hinted to her wanting more than visitors at the moment.

"No visitors, love. Not for a long while," she whispered, drawing him down into her arms.

"So soon? Your inj…" His voice was cut short as she devoured his lips and pulled him even deeper into the linens. "uries…" he finished as they parted.

"Shush, prince, and love me…"

As expected, her recovery was swift and, as soon as she was able, she got busy merging the two great armies into one. As the weeks turned into months, turned into years, Ithilien and Eryn Lasgalen were restored to their former glory under the care of the four majesties. Legolas and Arohtarë worked tirelessly to restore the woodlands, fields, and meadows to their natural beauty once more, and nurtured the planting fields back into the fertile plains they once were. Gimli had brought a contingent of dwarves, from the Glittering Caves, to help with the construction of stone and mechanical necessities, such as grain mills, water pumps, forges and the like. It was his contribution to his great friend's endeavor. The mannish villages surrounding Ithilien benefited greatly from the elves's restorative projects over the years, and a robust economy of trade swiftly developed as a result. Starvation was almost unheard of in the century of work that was done.

During this time, Aragorn's reign nurtured the surrounding lands of the South as well. As his first hundred years came to a close, Minis Tirith had been restored to its brilliant glory of yesteryear, and the White City sparkled as a jewel in the mountain side once more. The newly planted White Tree had fully bloomed by the time Gandalf sailed the White Ship. Gondor and Arnor prospered, and the population began to grow. Trade with Ithilien to the north had brought back the health and improved welfare of the villages, so badly decimated during the war long before. Aragorn and Arwen's son and daughters were now full grown, and had been assisting greatly in the restoration of Middle Earth. 


	17. Chapter 17

During what would turn out to be their last of many envoys to Gondor, Legolas and Arohtarë were taken one night into the private chambers of the King and Queen. Over the course of the years gone by, many a night of festivities were had here by those still surviving the Fellowship. This night, however, was to be anything but festive. Aragorn had summoned his closest friends and family to his side for the sole purpose of saying farewell. His reign was waning and his son, Eldarion, would be taking the throne to begin his own, and to continue his father's restorative work. Nigh 120 years had past since the war had ended and Aragorn, still rather youthful of features for a man of over 290 winters, was white-haired and weary. Arwen, Legolas and Arohtarë had hardly been touched by the hands of time, and were relatively of the same features as they had been during the War of the Ring. Gimli had grown older and more feeble, being close to 300 years old himself. Tears were in the eyes of all who beheld the good and great king, knowing that he would choose to fade upon their departure from his sight.

"My great and true friends. Do not look upon this day with sadness or sorrow. I have lived a long and full life, nigh three times that of normal men, and I yearn for no more. I have been blessed beyond the measure of mortals, having a loving wife and children to carry onward. Though I may have more years of life left, should I allow it to take its course of nature, I choose to depart before the feebleness of years robs me of mind and body."

Aragorn pulled himself up against the cushions of his bed and turned fully to face those gathered.

"I have asked you all here to give my deepest and heartfelt thanks, for all that you have done and sacrificed to help rebuild our war weary world. All of you, here in this room, were the backbone for the victory we have enjoyed all of these years. Frodo, the strongest of us all, held the greatest burden. If not for his inseparable friend Sam, and his own inner strength, we all would not have lived past the battle of the Black Gate. Though I know not where my soul departs to, I shall pray that it always holds you near and dear to it, for all of eternity. I, nor it, shall ever forget you and all that you have done." Aragorn paused for a moment, his eyes showing a calm inner peace as he raised his head to look at those tear stained faces gazing back. He slowly raised his right hand to his heart saying, "Peace my friends, and Namarie. I am weary and yearn for my final journey home."

Each person rose and kissed the hand and face of the King before they departed the chambers, save for Arwen and his children. They remained by his side until his last breath. All remained for Aragorn's funeral, and the coronation of Eldarion, before departing the White City. Many for the last time. Within the year, Arwen departed for the deserted city of Lórien, where she lay down in death upon the sacred mound of Cerin Amroth. Her noble life ebbed away, as she partook of the 'gift of men' and perished. The Evenstar was no more.

Legolas, nearly heartbroken by the death of his closest friend, save for Gimli and the Evenstar, remained in seclusion for weeks on end. Arohtarë was also affected in the same way, having known the King slightly longer than the Elf. He had been her greatest friend and like a blood brother. Both were deep in sorrow, and Gimli was hard pressed to keep all in Ithilien together while they both grieved. It was during this time when Legolas revealed to Arohtarë that his heart had been touched by the sea, so many years ere, and his yearning to sail to Valinor was unrelenting.

"You are all that tethers me to this earth, meleth, for I shall never depart while you still live," he said, deeply saddened by his own words to her.

She had responded in shock at his words, the pain of his suffering palpable within her own being.

"You have kept this from me all this time, Legolas? I can only imagine the torment you have held within," she replied as she held the Elf gently in her arms. "My life has yet begun, in terms of elven years, but if you yearn so greatly to depart, as your heart breaks, I shall relieve you of your burden of life here and your pledge to me. Though, I shall perish of heartbreak before I fade by my own hand. I love you so deeply, Legolas, that I cannot even fathom death without you," she whispered against his neck.

He pulled back slightly in her arms, a look of desperation in his eyes. "You shall do no such thing, Arohtarë! I shall not allow such to occur! I pledged to take you to the end of your days and then follow. I intend to hold to this. I shall never sail to Valinor! My heart may yearn for it but it shall never be granted this departure. I would send Gimli, if he so wished it, as he deserves a place in the Undying Lands, and has few years left before death claims him," he told her, pulling her to his chest. They remained in each other's arms for a long while before Arohtarë broke the silence.

"Meleth, I have at least an age left in my blood. Mayhap more. Even you, as strong of mind, body and spirit that you are, could not resist the call of the Sea for that long." She shook her head vehemently. "Nay, we must think of another path to quell the unrest," she said, leaning her head against his shoulder and both falling silent once again.

Legolas wracked his brain to come up with a solution to their great dilemma until a thought pushed his errant musings aside.

"I shall build a ship and take us all to Valinor, Arohtarë, and take our chances with the Valar's wrath. I cannot believe that one of your kind should be turned from their shores. If the lands of the Elves can accept a dwarf, a Dunedain Wildeor should be little of an exception," he said firmly. Arohtarë looked into the Elf's eyes and saw the determination within. Valinor? She had never given it a thought as to where her own soul would depart for. Undying Lands? She silently thought about his words.

"Legolas, I shall try to reach the Lady and ask what can be done. I am sure she will impart upon us some guidance to our dilemma," she said hopefully. He looked down at his wife, a slight smile curling around his lips.

"The Lady. I had forgotten," he said softly kissing her face. "I shall speak with her at once," said Arohtarë, sitting on their bed and focusing her mind on the Lady of Light. She had no idea if she could even reach her mind out to Galadriel, as she had never tried to contact her after she took to the White Ship. Speaking with someone in Valinor? She shook her head in disbelief and looked up at Legolas who was gazing back at her expectantly. She refocused.

M'lady. 'Tis I, Arohtarë, calling for you. I know it has been many years but I do wish greatly to speak with you, she called out in her mind. She paused in thought and sat with her eyes closed for a very long time, before she heard what she thought was a gentle whisper.

Arohtarë, it called. She blinked and strained her mind to refocus.

Arohtarë, she heard again.

"Lady Galadriel, 'tis you?" she silently asked, not believing that she was actually speaking with the great lady all the way from Valinor.

Aye, 'tis my child. So long I have heard naught from you. Is all well?

In her distress, Arohtarë's reply poured forth in a rush of rapidly spoken words, one rolling over the other.

Oh, Naneth! All is not well! Legolas has heard the call of the Sea and yearns to sail but will not leave me, nor Gimli behind! He suffers so. As do we both. Aragorn and Arwen have both passed, leaving us barren and heartbroken. All we can do in Ithilien has been done, and all of our loved ones have passed. There is nothing but each other holding us to this earth. I am but a child in my life's walk, Naneth, and have many centuries yet ahead. I cannot possibly expect Legolas to remain this long upon the earth, and he has stated that he will never sail, choosing death over his departure for Valinor. Even you did not know as to when I might breathe my last. I ask for your guidance and advice as to what course is left to us, Naneth.

The mortal ended her pleas with a deep sob, and Legolas pulled her close, his own eyes filling with tears. Though he knew naught what was being spoken, the anguish he felt emanating from his wife was enough to draw such an emotional reaction from him.

The mind voice of Galadriel was filled with such a great sadness and despair from the mortal that it brought the great lady to tears. Long had she awaited this call for help from her iell. Her dear, mortal iell. What could she tell her in return? Even she was not above the Valar. She may have their ear, but not their final word on such matters.

She thought a bit then, Take to the ship, young one. Come to Valinor with Legolas and Gimli. Though I do not yet have the answers you seek, come, and we shall sort out all when you arrive. Travel well, iell, and I await your return to me...

The mind tether faded and Arohtarë opened her eyes and blinked through her tears. Did she just imagine all that transpired? She blinked again and looked into Legolas's cerulean eyes. "Did she answer, lirimier?" He asked hopefully.

She cleared her throat and nodded. "Aye she did," she said meekly.

"And?"

"She told me to take to the ship with you and Gimli. She has no answers to that which I ask as of yet, but she said that all would be sorted once we arrive in Valinor," she told him, still not truly believing that she had actually spoken with the Lady of Light.

The happiness reflected in Legolas's face literally beamed from his eyes. His heart leapt for joy as he took his wife in his arms and swung her about. "Legolas!" she shrieked, giggling as he laid her back on the bed.

"Valinor, my sweet! You are coming to Valinor. 'Tis a dream come true, meleth!"

"Legolas, meleth-nîn. I have not been accepted there yet. 'Tis only the journey I have been asked to make. There is still the greatest of chances that I will be sent back to Middle-earth," she gently told him, leaning into his shoulder.

"Aye, I know, Arohtarë, but the very fact that you will travel with me makes me happy. The Valar have blessed us once already melethril, and I do not think that they would mind granting one more blessing upon my beautiful wife," he said, kissing her tenderly.

"I tend to not care to push them too far, Legolas. They may feel us greedy for that which may not be my natural born fate. I have always put all in their hands, and. I have always put great faith in their wisdom. Always have I heeded their guidance. I have seen them do many great and wondrous things over the few years I have lived, and I know them to be most benevolent."

She shifted a bit in his arms and bit her lip thoughtfully.

"However, even they have limits as to how much they shall grant to an individual." She turned to look up at him. "Know this now my Prince, I am prepared for whatever their decree might entail. No matter. My heart may break, and you may watch me fade before you from grief, but I have steeled myself to their decision. Whatever it may be," she said softly. She snuggled against him as he held her close, both falling to slumber within a short while.

Legolas and Gimli toiled for nigh three moons building a small gray ship, large enough for the three of them and the remaining Firstborn who would be sailing with them from Ithilien. A month before they sailed, Arohtarë, Legolas and Gimli returned once more to the White City to bid King Eldarion farewell, before taking to the shores of Valinor. Eldarion was so much like his father that tears welled up in the Elf's eyes, as Aragorn's son stepped forward to take him in a embrace.

"My lady and lords, 'tis a sad day this is. A great piece of Middle-earth's history and knowledge sails with you, the last of the great fellowship. I would have wished that you would have stayed longer among us, but I realize that you have toiled long and hard all these years."

He turned to Legolas. " Legolas, I know you have grown weary of this world. You have done so much to restore our lands and your rest is well deserved. If there is anything that you would require for your journey, please, speak it, for it shall be as you command."

Legolas thought for a moment then said, "Nay good king, we need for naught. Your well wishes, and the promise that you and your descendants will continue to rebuild and better this world we leave behind, would be all I ask."

He grew silent again and pondered his next words carefully. Taking the King's arm, he led him from the small group in which they were standing. "My liege, there is one thing that I would ask, though I am not certain that it shall come to pass, and may not be needed."

Eldarion looked at the elf-prince expectantly and said, "Ask it Prince Legolas. For it shall be as you command."

Legolas nodded in thanks and said softly so that only the Gondorean king could hear. "There is a great chance that Arohtarë may not be allowed into the Undying Lands, Eldarion. If she is not, Círdan will send her back to the shores of the Gray Havens, within moments of our arrival. If, within a few days' time of our departure, you do not see a ship return, rest assured that she will have been accepted to the golden shores."

He bent his head closer to the king.

"However, I would appreciate if you could hold a watch as a precaution, and take her into your kingdom for the remainder of her days. She will not fare well in the realm of Men, mellon, but your house would be the closest to the Elves as she would find in this age."

"As you wish, good Prince. It shall be as you ask. I would think that, as unique a creature such as she, she would be accepted. Mortal or no. I cannot fathom the Valar being so cold of heart after all that she has done to see to the destruction of the One."

Legolas smiled and grasped the King by the forearm firmly in thanks. "This is farewell, Eldarion. Rule with strength and love, mellon-nîn. I know you shall do your father proud."

"Journey well, Legolas. Take care of Arohtarë, and that grumpy old dwarf there!" he chided, to the disdain of the elder dwarf. "Much love and luck ta ye as well, ya young whelp!" retorted the dwarf with a grunt, and to everyone's amusement.

The small party returned to Ithilien to gather those last remnants of the elves that stilled dwelt upon Middle-earth, and then made their way to the Gray Havens where their vessel waited for their departure. Arohtarë was visibly nervous, as was Gimli. The dwarf was not fond of water travel, no matter the size of the vessel, and made that quite clear to Legolas during the entire journey to the havens. All to the Elf's dismay. "Stay by the rails Gimli! That way you shall not befoul the decks!" he jested to the irate dwarf lord. He was rewarded with a deep grunt, as his old friend found a secluded spot on the deck to sit by.

Arohtarë was silent throughout the journey to the havens, and Legolas had grown accustomed to this silence whenever her mind was preoccupied with deep thoughts, or if she was deeply saddened. All the time he had known her she had been this way. She had always had a private air about her and craved her solitude fiercely. There was much to ponder and worry about on this journey, that was certain, and he could sense the thoughts reeling through her mind. He was just as nervous as she, as he could very well be risking losing her forever in such a short time, instead of having an age yet to spend by her side in Middle-earth. He knew that, even if she were to return to Gondor, she would fade within days of her arrival there. Possibly even as the ship took her on her way back to Middle-earth.

He could not speak such to Eldarion, feeling that he would know she would surely die of a broken heart. His father and mother had schooled all their children well in the ways of the elves, so the King certainly knew what to expect upon her return.

Eldarion was stricken with great sadness at her departure, for she had much knowledge of his father, mother, and the great elven lords and ladies that were his ancestral past. She had left a written chronicle of her life in Arda, for the benefit of his people and his family. She had also left a great military trieste, chronicling all of the Lórien, Rivendell and Mirkwood battles and strategies she had devised along with Haldir, in her years with the Galadhrim, and the battle for the Hornburg, the Pelennor Fields and the Black Gate.

Legolas sighed as he watched Arohtarë walk slowly up the gang plank towards him. She was just as beautiful and graceful as he had known her to be in Lórien, and 120 winters hence when they had met again at the great fortress. She was still but a child in his elven eyes, but a great and wise elder among her blood race. He silently cursed his immortality for the first time in his long life, as he second guessed his decision to take her with him and not remain with her in the world his heart was so eager to depart. It would be as if he would be killing her himself, if she were not accepted in Valinor. He shook his head, forcing those thoughts from his mind. He vowed silently that, if she were to be returned, so would he follow. He would fight the Valar themselves if need be, to return with her. When the last of the elves had come aboard, Gimli pulled the gangplank on board and the sails set themselves.

As the mouth of the Anduin of faded from view, and the ship passed into a soothing mist, Arohtarë quietly glided up beside Legolas and slipped her hand into his. He looked over to her, but her head was bowed slightly. He turned to face her, curling his fingers under her chin. "Meleth, what troubles you? We are on our way, lirimier."

She remained ever silent as he drew her to him, caressing the back of her head and drawing his fingers deep within her long raven hair that, by now, tumbled down near her calves. "Do not fear, meleth-nîn. I shall be with you no matter what the Holy Ones decide. If you are to be sent back to Middle-earth, I shall return with you, Valar be damned. I have not lived so long as to have the one true love of my life be torn from me so cruelly." He looked into her eyes. "No matter, beloved, I shall remain with you until your last breath."

Arohtarë wrapped her long arms about the Elf's slender waist and buried her face into his chest. "I cannot bear to be away from you, Legolas, for I would surely fade. I fear being torn from you untimely," she whispered through tears.

"It shall not happen, lirimier. Only your natural passing will claim you from me, meleth. No man, nor Elf, nor Vala shall do such. Rest assured," he answered softly, kissing the crown of her head. She remained silent, gazing at the stars and holding onto Legolas as if a great force was about to tear her from his grasp. He felt her uneasiness and desperation in her actions, and held her a bit more tightly.

"Come, melethril, let us take our rest. We have some time before we reach Valinor and I wish to still your anguish," he whispered, leading her below decks to their chambers. As they lay together in the darkness, Arohtarë clung tightly to his chest with a grip of iron, her face buried against his shoulder. He could feel the fear rolling from her and it was not something he was accustomed to feeling from his wife, as she was relatively fearless as a rule. He had not even felt such overwhelming angst from her, even on the first night they had lain together during the Solstice Feast, nigh 270 years ere.

Several more hours passed and, suddenly, the ship emerged from the cooling mists into the most brilliant sunshine they had ever beheld. Though the journey was short and uneventful, all were anxious for the trip to be done with, save for Arohtarë. She looked upon this moment as if it were her last. To those around her, she appeared the pillar of strength and calmness, but Legolas knew better. He felt her fighting a great battle within, struggling to hold onto her composure and sanity.

The words of Galadriel from so long ago crept into his mind, like the waves crashing into the shore, She fears abandonment mellon. All her life such has plagued her. He stood helplessly by her side, not knowing how to sooth her or set her heart at ease. Her pain was his, as she gazed towards the horizon, her heart quickening with every lap of the waves at the bow.

Then, he did the only thing he could think of, that had never failed to sooth her. He began to sing. His melodious voice was soft and soothing, calming and nurturing. Arohtarë leaned against his broad chest and nestled within his shoulder as he wrapped his arms about her. He was woven about her like a shield, which was his intention. As strong and fearless as she had always been, even she needed the comfort and protection of his presence. She didn't fight his actions, contrarily, she craved them.

"Hold me close, meleth, for I feel so alone and fearful. I have not felt such since I was but a child," she whispered, as tears fell from her emerald orbs. His song lulled her into a feeling of security and safety. Her eyes began to grow heavy with sweet sleep, and Legolas noted that she leaned heavily against him. He softly kissed her cheek, gently swept her into his arms, and brought her to their chambers. Laying her upon their bed, he lay down by her side still singing softly, and held her in his arms until the ship sailed into the harbor.

"The Golden Shores! 'Tis Valinor, my liege! We have arrived!" An excited voice suddenly cried out topside, and Legolas rose and went above, leaving Arohtarë in their chambers still in deep sleep. He glanced back once before heading above decks, and said a silent prayer that all would be well. As he leaned upon the bow rail, the elf-prince stared in awe at the sight unfolding before him. A great golden glow filled the morning sky as the shores of Valinor came closer into view. He could just make out a great crowd gathering on the beach, waiting for the ship to pull into the haven at Alqualondë. "Sweet Eru be praised. We are finally home," he whispered to no one in particular.

Gimli brought him from his thoughts. The elderly dwarf did not pass the journey well, and had been as green as his beard was long the entire trip. "Good morn, my friend. How do you fare this glorious day?" he asked in amusement.

"Hmmph…'tis bout time this floatin death trap found its way to tha elven haven," he grumbled.

"Well Gimli, fear not, for there are no more journeys in our future. Now we shall bear rest upon a land of eternal comfort and bliss. You shall have your well deserved respite from all that is fraught with peril!" quipped the Elf, as he looked down upon his great companion.

The dwarf smiled back up at him, his green eyes glittering for the first time in days. "Ye best wake tha Lady, for tha time draws nigh," said the dwarf, concern creasing his weathered brow.

"Aye, my friend, I fear it does and I do not know what effect this shall have upon my beloved," voiced the Elf, as he descended the stairs to their chambers below.

Legolas found Arohtarë still asleep and it tugged at his heart to wake her. She had slept so little throughout the journey and to wake her now, at the moment she had feared and been dreading for months, did not sit well with him. He sighed softly and laid his hand upon her shoulder, gently shaking her awake. "Meleth, we are here. We have reached Valinor. Wake love," he whispered, as he kissed her closed eyes and then her lips. Slowly her eyes fluttered open and the fear was evident. She clutched at his hand resting on her side and pulled him close to her.

"Are we truly in Valinor, Legolas?" she nearly gasped, having lost her ability to speak, the fear gripped her so.

"Aye meleth-nîn, we are. Come. Let us see to the business at hand." He drew her up from the bed and waited for her to dress. They emerged from below decks just as the ship slid into a birth close to the beaches. He espied Galadriel and Celeborn at the head of the well wishers and they in turn caught his eye and beckoned to him.

Taking Arohtarë firmly by the arm, he descended the gangplank and hurried over to the Lord and Lady. Arohtarë was silent and had her head bowed, looking neither right nor left, as they approached the regal couple. Galadriel looked upon the mortal with great concern at her appearance. Arohtarë appeared worn and haggard, her eyes were sallow and sunken. She looked as she did at the age of ten winters, when Haldir and his brothers brought the mortal to her in the child's feline form. Fearful, distrustful and forlorn.

"Arohtarë, iell-nîn. Come to me my dear," whispered the Lady, as the woman quickly moved from Legolas's arm to hers, head still bowed.

"Celeborn, please take Legolas and Gimli to our chambers. I and Arohtarë shall be there presently."

Celeborn bowed slightly and took a most concerned looking elf-prince by the arm, followed by the dwarf. "She will be well, mellon. Do not worry yourself. Galadriel will bring her back to her hale self. Come. I have a most refreshing ale for you and Gimli to partake of," he said lightly, as they made their way to his chambers.

Galadriel led a visibly shaken and weakened Arohtarë to a secluded garden just outside of her chambers. The woman's skin was cold to the touch, even though the surrounding air was soothingly warm and a warm breeze blew. "Arohtarë, iell. Please look at me, my sweet."

Arohtarë slowly looked up for the first time since stepping foot upon landfall. Tears hung in her eyes and she was visibly shivering. "Are they going to cause my return, Naneth? If so, then I shall fade here in the arms of my beloved before I take to the Gray Ship again."

Galadriel could not yet answer the mortal, for she had not been given notice of any decision as of yet. "I cannot say fair one, as the Valar have not yet rendered their verdict. You have been granted respite in my care until such time, iell. We shall just have to abide until such time as they herald to us." She cradled the woman's head in her lap, stroking her long obsidian locks.

"In the meanwhile, you shall be our guest and have the whole of Valinor to explore as you wish. You are not a prisoner here, iell. You are as if a citizen. You must have hope, iell, and above all you must not despair." She peered into the woman's eyes, seeing hope glimmer ever so slightly. "Come. The ellyn are waiting for us." She rose and took Arohtarë by the hand, leading her to her chambers.

Several fortnights passed, with no word from the High Council. Legolas and Arohtarë were staying with the Lord and Lady, until quarters were fully prepared for them. Soon after arriving, Gimli took delight in building a stone home beneath a great waterfall at the edge of the great golden forest, near the foot of Tantaquital.

Arohtarë ventured no further than the edge of the Lady's gardens, fearful that if she did, she might be whisked from their sight and sent back to the ship. No amount of coaxing could bring the mortal to go beyond the confines of their chambers.

One morning, Legolas chanced to take the Lord and Lady aside and speak with them for awhile. "M'lord, "M'lady, 'tis maddening this. Day by day, I watch my wife wither before my eyes. If this be the plan of the Holy Ones, then I want no part in it, and shall take her and the ship back to Middle-earth, this instant."

The couple glanced at one another and then back to Legolas. "Have patience, Las Galen. One does not rush the decisions of the Valar and get far by it. They are not that cruel to have such a being fade before a judgment is decreed." Galadriel moved to stand before Legolas.

"'Tis not every day that they make exceptions of this kind, mellon. If an exception it is that they ponder…It must be done with much thought and diligence. Arohtarë is not the common mortal, however, mortal she is. Her origin of fate was not to live forever, though in the eyes of her blood kind she would seem to." Celeborn moved to his wife's side and nodded in agreement. Galadriel took her husband's hand and continued

"The Valar know very well that she would not have lived out her natural life in Middle-earth, as she is entwined with the culture of the Elves. Three thousand winters, and more, would take her well past the fourth age, and deep into the realm of Men. She would wither and fade long before that came about, as she cannot live amongst them. The Valar did not intend for that to be her fate. She was to enjoy the life given her." Galadriel paused for a few moments and looked at the elf-prince.

Celeborn continued the Lady's words. "Legolas. The Holy Ones most likely would have called to her in time, because of the long life naturally given her by their grace. She may have come to Aman much earlier than they expected. Of course, knowing that she would come with you, was something that they might have also expected, seeing as they had blessed your union. They may not have thought you would have come so soon, though. There is a very good chance that her sudden arrival has befuddled them, forcing them into making a decision well before its time."

Legolas looked from one to the other and then dropped his head into his hands, running his long fingers through his silken locks. "Ai'. I know not what to do m'lord in the meanwhile, as she weakens so. Never have I seen her in such a state of decline. Not even at the death of Haldir, though she came close to fading."

He sighed and took his leave, making his way to the shore to clear his head. He glanced warily at the ship they had arrived in, still moored at the pier. Usually Círdan would take the ships and dry dock them, especially since this was the last to take the Straight Way from Arda. He knew very well why it lingered. Even the Valar were not certain what Arohtarë's fate would be.

Several more days passed, with no word from the High Council. Legolas had managed to urge Arohtarë to take air by the shore, startling all. A moon's time had passed since their arrival and no one had seen the mortal leave the Lord and Lady's gardens. She clung to Legolas's arm tightly, leaning upon him heavily. A weak smile graced her lips now and again, in response to something the Elf would say, but would fade almost immediately upon the conversation ending. Celeborn and Galadriel watched the couple's progress across the beach from their chambers in silence, and with great concern.

The Lady sighed softly and turned to Celeborn saying, "Her life's grace slips away by the day, melethron. I cannot say how much longer iell-nîn shall be able to hold herself before taking to her deathbed." Celeborn remained silent, turning back towards the beach, watching as the Elf and mortal now gradually made their way back to the gardens.

He slowly turned to face his wife, a rare look of despair and hopelessness upon his fair face. "I cannot believe that they would knowingly allow her to fall into the abyss of darkness, while they ponder her fate," he voiced softly, as he began pacing a bit, hands behind his back and head bowed. After a few moments he looked up suddenly, staring ahead, then turned his head in the direction of Galadriel. "I feel as if a fool, my wife!" he nearly spat. She raised a brow at his unusual outburst and demeanor.

"All this time we have neglected to ask one simple question…Do they even know that she fades? Valar they may be, but such a preponderance of one's fate could shroud them from all else, regarding the child! We have assumed all along that they must be aware of her declining condition!" He grabbed her hand and hurriedly led her from their chambers.

"Dearest husband! Where do you intend to drag me?" she shrieked in good humor.

"To Tantaquital, my love. To seek audience with Manwë and Varda!"

"Legolas, I am feeling quite weak, melethron. I must lay here for a bit," said Arohtarë, as she sank into the blankets of their bed. The Elf drew the covers around her shoulders and lay down by her side, noting that her skin was now cold to the touch and the last remnants of color was draining from her features.

"Arohtarë, please do not do this. Tell me what I can do to pull you from the shadow…" he whispered, tears welling up in his eyes. "Is my love for you not enough to hold you to me?" He kissed her head and held her tightly in his arms.

"Tell me what to do melethril, for my heart breaks…" he whispered into her hair. Tears were streaming down her face, as she heard the pain and heartbreak in his voice and felt the anguish in his soul.

She did not wish to be in such a state, but didn't know how to tear herself from the grasp of death. Her mind reeled, as she thought of what her passing would do to the elf-prince, and how that thought forced her to fall deeper into despair. She was even afraid to love him, thinking that it would be her last time in his arms if she did.

Since their arrival, they had not lain in love's embrace, though she yearned for his touch, the taste of his lips and his body against hers. They lay by each other's side for a long while, as her breathing began to slow and the world around her began to fade from view. Please do not let me die like this, mighty Valar, for Legolas does not deserve such heartache…at least…send me from these shores and away from his sight if 'tis your will… she whispered in her mind, as her eyes slid closed as darkness overtook her.

Feeling her body relax unnaturally, Legolas's heart crashed into his ribcage, as he watched her chest rise and fall much too slowly. "No! You cannot allow this! After all that she has done! All that she has been through! All that we have been through together!" He literally roared his rage and fury at the Holy Ones, as he cradled his dying wife in his arms. "Damn you all to the pits of Mordor!" he literally screamed, as he watched her take in her last breaths.

"We did not know. We were not aware of the mortal's condition…" said the great Vala softly, as he gazed at the golden couple before him. "So intent upon our deliberations regarding her arrival, that we did not pay proper attention to her needs." He paused, head bowed then looked back up at the couple. "How long has she been in such a state?"

"She began her descent into shadow, in earnest, during the last month before their journey to these shores, m'lord." Said Galadriel, as she studied the Vala's reaction intently. "She now lies in the throes of death as we speak."

Varda was gazing out over the lands of Aman, a distant look in her eyes, when she turned her head towards the three in front of her. "The Lady speaks the truth Manwë; she prepares to pass…This cannot be allowed." All turned their heads in her direction, as she closed her eyes and a soft smile curled upon her lips.

As if answering Arohtarë silent prayers and Legolas's heartbroken fury, a comforting voice suddenly passed through her shadowed and fading mind. She suddenly saw the shroud of darkness lift a bit. Do not tarry in the halls of shadow, my child. Take your husband in love, Arohtarë…Love him this night…

She struggled to open her eyes. Dim candlelight met her weakened sight. She felt his arms tightly wrapped about her, his body slightly shaking, as he buried his soft sobs against her neck. She slowly turned to the Elf who had his eyes tightly closed, tears running down his face. She weakly caressed his cheek, causing him to blink his eyes open in surprise at her movement and touch. Something he hadn't felt since they stepped foot into Aman. Though her soul's light was dimming, and she felt her life's grace still waning, she managed to whisper, "Lay with me this night, meleth-nin. Warm me. Love me back to life, Legolas…"

He leaned over her in shock, not believing what he was hearing or seeing. His heart nearly bursting with joy and love. He slowly dipped his head, golden hair surrounding both of them like a curtain, and kissed her long and passionately. "Gladly hiril-nîn, beneth-nîn. More than gladly..." he voiced softly, tears still gliding down his cheeks, as he lowered himself against her.

Varda opened her eyes and studied the golden couple softly for a few moments. Great angst flashed across their faces. "Life's grace begins to renew within, m'lord, m'lady. She is emerging from the land of shadow, in the arms of her beloved."

Both sighed in relief, content to know that a great tragedy was barely stemmed from passing. Not being one of shyness or meek composure, Galadriel took a breath and asked, "Forgive my boldness great lord and lady, but if I may speak plainly?" Both Valar turned towards her, nodding for her to continue. "What is the mortal's fate, if I may ask? She has suffered all this time believing that she shall be banished back to Arda, and into the Realm of Man, to live her days alone without the company of Elves or her beloved. 'Tis the main reason of her fading."

"Sweet Eru! Is this her thinking?" gasped Manwë, as Varda raised a bemused brow at his reply.

"And what would you think she would have thought, husband? She is a part of mortal blood after all, is she not? Such fear would be expected. How was she to know that, what we ponder was not whether she remain here or returned to Arda, but how she was to live within the realm of the undying, for the rest of her days?" She moved to Manwë's side as she continued.

"Her years of life as a mortal are great, and she must be given the appropriate comforts as such. How she is to pass, if at all, is what we have been pondering, not if she is to leave or remain. This was never in question. She is welcomed here, as is any Elf. T'was her intended fate and she would have been called in time. Her arrival was surprising and untimely. 'Tis all."

As the moon waxed in its course through the sky, shards of its silvery light caressed the sleeping form of Arohtarë. It shimmered over her long raven hair and gave her skin a silver aura. Legolas was propped up on his elbow, stroking her cheek with the back of his hand and tracing the outline of her face. As they had made love, he had literally felt her life force surge within her being and energize them both.

As she lay by his side, he marveled at how quickly all had been righted. Whatever took place, he was not one to question it. His wife was now whole and hale and that was all that he cared about. He leaned down and softly kissed her lips, her eyes, her cheeks, and cradled her head against his shoulder. "Again, I give thanks for this woman, my beloved, Valar. Please forgive my words of anger. It hurt so…" he whispered into the darkness, as he unfocused his eyes and drifted off into a comforting sleep for the first time in a month.

The next morning found the couple still entwined and nestled in each other's arms. Legolas was the first to stir, blinking the haze from his eyes and immediately turning his gaze upon Arohtarë. She was sleeping soundly and he did not wish to disturb her. Softly kissing her lips, he rose and donned his robe, walking out onto their balcony. Sun streamed through the doors and a warm breeze, permeated with the scent of salted air, filled their chambers.

For the very first time since their arrival, he was able to behold the land of Aman and see its true beauty. So much of his mind had been filled with fear for his wife, that he truly had not been mindful of the land he now inhabited. He had not seen long departed friends and family, save when they had stepped off the ship.

The ship…it was not at the dock! He quickly looked back into the chamber, checking to see that Arohtarë truly was safely asleep there. His gaze drifted back to the beach, the view now unhindered by the presence of the Gray Ship. Valar! She was to stay!

Before he could make his way to her side, there was a gentle rapping on the door. He silently opened it and found himself face to face with the Lord and Lady. He stepped into the hall and quietly closed the door behind him. "How does the lady fare, Legolas?' asked Galadriel, with a twinkle in her eye. Celeborn merely smiled softly. The Elf looked from one to the other, knowing there was something afoot. He raised a brow and cocked his head to the side expectantly as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"The lady fares well, considering her condition of last eve took me to the Halls of Mandos and back." He squinted and pursed his lips. "What say you both? You hold from me something of interest," said the elf-prince, his eyes narrowed, as he leaned against the wall. The golden couple traded glances and then looked back at Legolas.

"She is to stay, Legolas. There was never a question of that. Deliberations have not been over her staying or leaving, but as to how she was to live amongst the undying. They did not know of her condition, ion. T'was the insight of Celeborn that brought her decline to their attention. Manwë and Varda wish an audience with the both of you, once you are able."

Legolas stared at them in bewilderment. He had been caused a small death last eve, and the mighty Valar hadn't the slightest idea his wife lay dying? "Sweet Eru.." breathed the elf-lord, glancing at the closed door.

Seeing his bewilderment, Celeborn said, "Mighty they may be, Legolas, but they can still be distracted over the smallest of details. Aye, they are all knowing, but if their minds are elsewhere they cannot focus on all things sometimes."

"I am in your debt, Lord Celeborn. You have brought her back to me," he said quietly.

"Nay, your love brought her back to all of us. I merely had a thought that should have been in mind from the beginning. I am sorry I did not think of it sooner. They simply did not know of her state and we assumed otherwise." The Lord placed a reassuring hand on the young Elf's shoulder before turning, and both made their way to their chambers. Legolas looked after them and then silently slipped back into his own rooms.

He walked over to the bed and sat by Arohtarë's side. As he reached out to stroke her face and draw a dark tendril of hair behind her ear, she stirred and her eyes fluttered open. "Mae aur, meleth-nîn. Welcome to Valinor my sweet," he told her, as he leaned down and captured her lips in a sensuous kiss.

"Legolas? What say you? Did I hear rightly?"

"Aye you did, melethril. Your staying in Aman was not the issue. Come. Rise. The Valar wish to seek audience with us. We shall learn all presently."

She blinked, still not comprehending what Legolas had just said, but rose and prepared for the day. After her bath, she prepared to plait her hair, reaching for her brush on the dresser. Her hand was met by the slender fingers of Legolas, as he took the brush from her.

"Nay Arohtarë, I wish to braid your hair this morn," he said, nuzzling her neck and kissing the place behind her ear. "I have been wanting to put these braids in your hair for a long while now."

"How so shall you plait it?"

"Patience, meleth. You shall see," he said, turning her towards the mirror and brushing her long locks.

He began by braiding two thin long braids at the sides of her face, then braided two thicker ones on either side of her head, draping down in front of her. He then braided a very thick one down the entire length of her hair, at her back. He then drew the two thinner braids up to the sides and into the long one in back. She now was plaited in the fashion of the most highly ranked warriors of Elvendom, he being numbered among them. She was deserving of this honor, for very many years, but never cared to go to such lengths. As long as her hair stayed away from her bowstring, that was the only reason she cared for braids at all

"There. Now all is as it should be. Why do you not care to wear your rank as such, meleth?" he said, kissing her neck and turning her to face him.

She caressed his cheek with the back of her hand saying, "I am but a simple warrior, Legolas. Rank, nor badge of merit, has ever meant great things to me. All I ever aspired to be was a member of the Lórien Guard, and follow as a Warden in my Adar's footsteps. Rank and position just came. I did not seek it. I chose to do my toils silently and without drawing attention to my actions. However, I shall honor your efforts, meleth, as you feel the need for such things." She reached up and kissed him gently.

"I want the world to know of my wife's accomplishments and to know that I am proud of them. Regardless as to whether or not she herself wishes not to acknowledge such." He smiled then offered her his arm as they made their way to Tantaquital.

The Valar were awaiting them on their portico, as the young couple approached the balcony. "Legolas? 'Tis truly Valar we are to meet? I have called upon them on many an occasion, in times of peril mostly…Sweet Eru! How does one approach a Vala?" she asked in a whisper, as they came to the Holy Couple's side.

"You have just approached them, meleth. Do not trouble yourself, as I am just as nervous as you," he whispered back.

"Welcome Lady Arohtarë! Lord Legolas! Quite the fright you have given us young one," said Varda taking the mortal in a warm embrace. Arohtarë could hardly reply, as she was still in relative shock upon meeting the two mightiest of the Valar; two that she had invoked, on more than one occasion, during her life in Middle-earth. Varda released her from the embrace and studied her face for a moment, noting the visible shock and bewilderment clouding the woman's fair features.

Varda giggled musically. "Aye Arohtarë, 'tis I, Varda, the one upon whom you have called many times. Have you been pleased with the answers you have received over the winters?"

Arohtarë blinked several times and then found her voice. "I…er…assuredly m'lady…" she stuttered, glancing quickly at Legolas who stifled a laugh, she not quite sure as how to address a Vala. "I…um…you have granted all and then some, great lady. Without your guidance and protection, I would have surely gone on to the Halls of Mandos ages ere," she voiced lowly. Varda reached for the woman's hands and held them gently.

"M'lady, I have never understood how I was able to survive the fighting, the battles, the woundings, over the course of my life, when all around me fell, including my beloved. Many I have seen pass before my eyes, and I unable to harbour to most. Those, much more worthy than I, were cast into the Shadow, as I was left to fight onward. Verily, I say that I have harbored great guilt because of this. Mayhap this is the great sadness that has plagued my soul all of my life," she said wistfully, gazing out over the balcony, casting her eyes over the lands of Aman below.

Manwë and Legolas stood silently by, as the Vala took Arohtarë back into her arms. "T'was not your fate young one. Do not feel you were ever any less worthy than those of your fallen comrades. T'was their time, 'tis all. You were fated to the life you now lead, and to the arms of your now beloved. I have always enjoyed the brightness of your star Arohtarë, since the moment I hung it in the heavens."

Arohtarë shamelessly stared at the Vala in awe. This statement also took Legolas by surprise, as he was now staring at the Vala in shock. "M..m'lady Vala, wh..what say you? Only the Eldar are of the stars…I…am but….mortal?" she stammered. "…am I not?"

Both Manwë and Varda chuckled softly at the reaction from the couple. "My child. Aye you are, and nay, you are not. You are of a kind in similarity to a half-elf. We have decided to allow you the choice to take immortality, as one of the Firstborn or that of the mortal path. This is what we have been deliberating all this time. If you were to live you life here in Valinor, as you arrived, you would eventually pass as would a mortal. That we would have allowed, though 'tis a rarity in the Undying Lands. Granted your life would be very long, but fade you would as is the gift of Men."

Varda took Arohtarë by the arm, as she was beginning to grasp at the chaise behind her, sinking in shock. Legolas came and sat by her side, just as bewildered as she was. "So, what say you Lady Arohtarë, Lady of Ithilien, Captain of the armies of Eryn Lasgalen, Marchwarden of Lórien? Choose you the immortal life of Elfkind…or the gift of Men?"

Legolas took her shaking hands in his then drew Arohtarë to him. "I desire to spend forever with you, meleth. You know my choice," she whispered into his golden hair. She could feel his tears against her neck as she spoke. She drew slowly away and wiped the tears from his eyes, before turning to the Vala standing before her. "I choose that of the Firstborn, m'lady Vala, for I wish to remain in the arms of my beloved until the end of all things."

"So shall it be, Arohtarë of the Dunedain, Arohtarë of the Wildeor, now counted among the Everliving. Take your rest and live without peril evermore. You are home my child," said Varda, as she came to the woman and extended her hand.

She drew Arohtarë up and hugged her whispering, "And so has another gift been given you, m'lady. One even more precious than immortality." She drew back and held Arohtarë at arm's length, gazing into her eyes for a moment, noting her expression, then drew her back into the embrace again whispering, "In a sun's time you shall bear forth a son and daughter. The time of war and conflict has passed for you, and you shall both lay down your weapons in peace, forevermore. Live your lives as they were meant to be lived. Take a family and enjoy that which is Aman."

Arohtarë took in a sharp breath, unable to comprehend what had just been spoken. "M'lady Vala, the Pelennor? How…is...this possible?" she stammered, as she gazed at Legolas wide-eyed, who stood by her side perplexed, not knowing what had just been said.

She then cast her gaze back to Varda who just smiled and said, "'Tis Valinor, Arohtarë. We are the Valar. All is possible."

Arohtarë thought for a moment then asked, "When did it…this…happen, m'lady Vala?"

Varda's eyes sparkled brightly, as she remembered her words to the woman as she faded. "Last eve Arohtarë. Betwixt the waxing and waning of Ithil, as her slivery light caressed you. Go now, share with Legolas. We shall meet again soon, my child."

Both Legolas and Arohtarë bowed and took their leave, Arohtarë in a great state of shock. "Meleth-nin? What has happened? What transpired last eve? Are you well?" his questions tumbled forth one after the other.

Arohtarë remained silent until they reached their chambers. Once inside she reached for his hands and led him to the chaise on the balcony. "Fair one, my Golden Light…" she paused and took in a deep breath. "You are to become a father, melethril…" she breathed. Legolas appeared to stop breathing for a moment, dropped his gaze, and his hand clutching his chest. He slowly raised his gaze back up to Arohtarë's unable to speak. Before he could verbally react she added, "Twice."

Twice? He mouthed the words silently, blatant shock spreading across his face. "'Tis not possible….the Pelennor….the wounding….Meleth? How…" She pressed her fingers to his lips, stifling a laugh.

"Legolas, my dearest Elf, if you are stricken dumb in shock, think of how I am feeling presently. That which was torn from me now is whole. Twins, meleth. We are having twins."

"By the Valar!" he voiced loudly.

"Aye t'would seem so, melethril!" she laughed as he realized his statement. "By their grace, but by our actions of last eve!" she laughed, soon joined by Legolas.

He slowly regained his composure then took her in a tight embrace. "You did not have the full knowledge and true meaning of your words to me last eve melethril, as we lay together…until this morn. 'Love me back to life', you said. T'would seem more than that has been done Arohtarë. Much more. I love you meleth-nîn," he whispered the last sentence and kissed her softly. Drawing back he looked at her, head tilted quizzically.

"Man? - what?"

"Er…do you know what we are having?"

"Do I know what we are having? Ai'! You silly Elf! Babies! We are having babies!" she retorted, smacking his arm.

"Ai'! Nay…I know this….rather…ahh…what I meant to say was….you are Wildeor, aye?…I er…"

"Oh for the sake of Eru! They will look as you and I Legolas! What think you? I am not having kittens, for the sake of Arda! Honestly! Silly Elf!" she spat, half in annoyance and half in mirth, pushing his shoulder playfully.

"You cannot blame me for my thoughts, wife! As you are not of usual makeup! Arched ears and black hair, could I understand…fur and a tail would be much harder to take!" he told her, a somewhat serious tone to his voice. Looking at his expression caused her to burst out in long and loud laughter at his expense. He eyed her indignantly.

Through her gasps of laughter she managed, "Fur and a tail they shall indeed have eventually, meleth, but not at birth!"

"Thanks be to Ilúvatar, Arohtarë. I would be beside myself in daftness otherwise…" he said, pouncing upon her in a playful embrace.

"Do you desire to know what they shall be, meleth, or do you wish to be surprised?"

He looked up at her in awe. "You know what we shall have?"

"Aye, I do."

"I desire to know, though either shall be fine with me."

"We shall have a ion and a iell."

A broad grin spread across the face of the Elf, as he held her tightly once more. He began to chuckle, which turned into hearty laughter, as they tumbled about, reveling in their great blessings that had been bestowed upon them.

That week, they gathered all their friends and family to hear the news, including his father and mother, who were beside themselves in happiness. "Well Adar, 'tis apparent you shall have grandchildren after all. Strange as it may seem."

"Aye ion-nîn, the Valar are most wondrous, as I told you so long ago. You both have been truly blessed."

With one turn around the sun, Legolas and Arohtarë became the joyful parents of a son and daughter, both the spitting image of each of their parents. They grew to become accomplished archers and sword masters, like their parents, and learned all there was to know about times gone by, and the Wars of the Ring. Though all were now outside the reach of war and peril, the ancient skills were still passed down. As time passed, they married and had children of their own.

The ages past, and the time of the elves in Middle Earth sank into myth. Through all of this, Legolas and Arohtarë gave thanks daily for their great blessings, for each other, and their children. They had a great celebration when she reached her first thousand year birthday, Legolas teasing her, saying now she was well past being an elfling, and slowing down in her old age. A piercing gaze later, a grand wrestling match ensued, and remained the talk of Valinor for several centuries hence. After all, one of the greatest warriors of the third and forth ages, being bested by another great warrior, his wife no less, was news to discuss!

Arohtarë past her fifth millennia in shock, mostly, as she never could comprehend such numbers in her life span. Great, great, great, grandparents now themselves, they were constantly surrounded by elflings, hardly having time for themselves. One evening, as the sun set, Legolas took his wife to the tallest tree in Aman, where they could gaze at the stars as they had eons past in Arda.

"'Tis frightening how quickly the years have past melethril. And that you still stand by my side. All those years ago, in the golden wood of Lórien. Never would we have fathomed how our lives would turn," he voiced softly, kissing her neck. "Haldir was a wise Elf, meleth. He never really lost hope for us, even as we did for ourselves." Arohtarë found tears gathering in her eyes at the mention of the great Elf's name. So many millennia had past since he had crossed and still the pain was fresh.

Legolas felt this and pulled her closer. "Aye, Legolas. He was. I was doubly blessed having both of you share my life. Truthfully, I do still think of him now and again. 'Tis difficult not to, as he held a part of my heart. I oft wonder what became of him, when he passed to the Halls of Mandos, and almost every day I still feel him near to me. Almost since the day we first came here. Do you find that odd?" She looked up at him, finding him smiling back knowingly.

"Nay Arohtarë, I do not find it odd. He is still close, meleth, closer than you think. I was wondering when it would be when you noticed, or at least, spoke of this."

Arohtarë gazed at the Elf quizzically, having no idea of what it was he spoke of. "Legolas, do not think me daft but, honestly melethron, I have no blessed idea of what you speak!"

He laughed, kissing her gently. "Our son Arohtarë. He has been reborn as Celdrin, meleth-nîn. He does not have knowledge of the life you once shared, but he knows that he loves you for the very reason his soul knows you. You have said presently that you have felt Haldir's presence since almost the day you came here. You felt it as soon as Celdrin was conceived."

She blinked and looked up to the sky, her mind going numb as his words sank in. Haldir? Her son? Sweet Eru…. Thousands of years had past, and still she was being given small deaths. Would there still be things that were to send her into shock after all this time?

She looked back at the prince, highly annoyed. "And when were you to tell me, All Knowing One, hmmm? At the end of the Counting of Time? He is nigh forty-eight hundred winters of age, for the sake of Eru! " She threw her hands in the air hissing, "Ai'!" His musical laughter could be heard through out the silver and gold leaved forest, followed by high pitched giggles from his wife. Thousands of years had past since their arrival in Valinor, but the culture of the elves never waned. Still it lives on in Aman, land of the Valar, until the end of all things.


End file.
